Dark Shadows: An Alternate Universe
by London Sparrow
Summary: Tyler Stoddard hates the very idea of moving out of New York. To add insult to injury, her mom's moving her family into some creepy old estate that's in an even creepier town. The town revolves around a smelly old fish factory, and the nearest shopping mall is an hour away. What's a seventeen-year-old girl to do when the end of the world comes... And brings a vampire with it?
1. Chapter 1

_**CHAPTER ONE **_

A heavy rain splatters onto the car's windows, pelting it with water droplets as we drive along the highway, the windshield wipers moving at top speed. I'm sitting in the passenger seat, staring glumly out the window while my younger siblings sit in the backseat, keeping themselves entertained somehow.

"I'm telling you, guys," Mom says, tapping her hands on the wheel in time with the wipers, "This move is going to be awesome. Best thing we've ever done as a family."

I roll my eyes and try my hardest to tune her out and focus on the drops rolling down the window. I pretend they're racing each other, trying to see who can get to the bottom first. Anything to keep my mind off of what we're really doing.

"I know we'll all miss New York," she continues, and I flinch at her words. Miss New York? That's an understatement. "But I think this is the best thing for us to do under the circumstances."

I flinch again. Those circumstances being the fact that Mom's husband - now ex-husband - recently divorced her. I can't blame her for wanting to get away, but leaving New York? Of all the things I'd expected Mom to come up with, leaving her hometown wasn't one of them.

"I'm kind of excited," my fifteen-year-old sister Carolyn pipes up from behind me. She's blonde, same as Mom, with the same cornflower blue eyes that are so innocent and yet so mischievous at the same time. We couldn't be more different physically; Carrie being blonde and I being brunette. Todd, my twelve-year-old brother, and I look more like our father (a curse, if you ask me), whereas Carrie is Mom's twin.

Mom glances in the rear-view mirror, smiling broadly. "That's the spirit, Carrie!"

I twist around in my seat and raise an eyebrow at my sister, looking at her dubiously. She raises her eyebrows at me in return, lifting her chin saucily. I cross my eyes at her and turn back to face the front.

"What about you, Todd?"

Silence answers my mother's question. We all look at Todd, who's sitting beside Carrie with his super-thick, incredibly heavy headphones that Dad bought him last Christmas covering his ears, bobbing his head to whatever crazy music he's playing on his iPod at the moment. Carrie taps his shoulder. When he doesn't give a response, she jabs his ribs with her elbow. While Todd yelps in pain and Mom gives Carrie a scolding look, I nod approvingly. The squirt had it coming from one of us, anyway.

"What?" he groans, reluctantly removing his headphones and glaring at Carrie. "I was right in the middle of-"

"Whatever. Mom asked you a question," Carrie interrupts him. I'm thankful she did. The last thing I need at the moment is to hear the gory details of Todd's "games".

"What?" Todd asks, scowling at Carrie one more time before turning to Mom, an annoyed expression on his face. For him, that's at least trying to be more respectful. We've all tried to be less rude to Mom, especially since the divorce. She's been through a lot; she doesn't need her kids being pains on top of everything else.

While Mom repeats her question, I twist around to face Carrie again. "You're really excited?" I ask quietly, so the other two won't hear us.

"Kind of," she replies, equally quiet. She twirls a strand of hair around her finger. "Are you?"

"Please," I snort. "How can I be excited about this? One of my friends said that the nearest shopping mall in that place is like, almost an hour away from where we'll be living!"

"Horrors!" Carrie says mockingly. I roll my eyes at her. She doesn't crave shopping like I do. My Aeropostale-filled closet can testify to that.

"Yes, horrors," I tell her, as Todd replaces his headphones and Mom turns up the radio, tuning it in to her favorite station. "I won't be able to shop at all."

"Yes, you will," she says. "You have your license."

"True." I chew my lip thoughtfully. "Doesn't mean Mom will let me take the car whenever I want, though."

"Poor muffin," she retorts. I stick out my tongue at her and turn back to the window, noticing that the rain has actually almost slowed to a stop.

We drive past a sign that reads, WELCOME TO MAINE! in large, happy letters. I stare at it until it fades from view, taking with it any hope of this all being a dream.


	2. Chapter 2

_**CHAPTER TWO**_

About an hour later, the car is bumping over a long, curving gravel driveway, which leads up to a huge gothic mansion. I lean forward in my seat, staring up at the tower piercing the clouds. Even with the sun shining (the rain stopped just after we crossed the border), the place looks creepy. The stone walls are gray and drabby, and there are several spear-like things jutting out from the roof.

I gulp, looking away from the roof and instead staring at the stone arch over the door. It's not even in the shape of an arch; it's more like a miniature roof built over the doorway. It, too, is rather imposing.

Mom pulls the car up beside a large fountain, which isn't spewing water at the moment. Instead, the equally drab and gray figuring is standing lifeless without a purpose.

Mom cuts the engine and removes the key from the ignition, dropping her hands to her lap. "Well," she finally says, "We're here."

"Where's here?" Carrie asks from the backseat. She yawns as she leans forward, and I wave my hand in front of my face.

"Ew. Morning breath."

Carrie makes a face at me and turns back to our mother. "Well?" she asks again. "Where are we?"

"Home, sweet home," Mom sighs, letting the keys rest on her thigh and raises her hands to her hair, magically producing an elastic from her pocket and securing her hair into a small ponytail. "Welcome to Collinwood, guys."

I raise an eyebrow as I stare at the mansion. It looks more like a prop out of a horror movie than an actual house for someone to live in.

"Are you sure it's safe?" I say, looking to my mom. "I mean, what about animals and stuff? And indoor plumbing?" The list of horrible possibilities runs through my mind, making me shudder. Would we have to use outhouses?

Mom laughs. "No, you worrywart. The plumbing is fine, and there are no animals or security threats or anything to harm your precious Aeropostale clothing." I laugh sarcastically at her words, but inside I'm greatly relieved. Those clothes weren't cheap, after all.

"Well, let's get to unpacking, shall we?" Mom says, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening her car door. A dinging sound follows until she closes her door again.

I release my own belt, pick up my purse from off of the floor beside my feet, and then hesitate with my hand on the door handle. Behind me, I hear Carrie shift and music from Todd's headphones. I doubt he's even noticed we've arrived.

"Tyler?" Carrie says quietly. "Are you okay?"

I nod, then turn around to face her. "Yeah," I tell her, forcing a smile onto my face for her sake. Her eyebrows are knit together as she frowns at me, worry clearly written on her face. "I'm fine," I say, trying to make my tone believable.

I incline my head towards Todd, who's still sitting there bobbing his head to music. "You want to bring the munchkin when you get out?"

Carrie chuckles. "Will do."

Grinning, I open my door and step out on to the gravel, hearing it crunch under my sneakers. Reaching into the pocket of my hoodie, I withdraw my sunglasses and slide them onto my face, feeling instant relief from the harsh glare of the sun. I close the car door and sling my purse over my shoulder before making my way around to the trunk, where Mom is already retrieving several pieces of luggage. She looks up and smiles at me as I join her.

"So, what do you think?" she asks, gesturing with Todd's Spiderman backpack towards the mansion. "From the outside, I mean."

"From the outside, it looks creepy," I tell her honestly, taking out my Louis Vuitton suitcase that I had saved for over a year to buy. "Maybe even haunted."

Seeing her crestfallen expression, I quickly add, "But it still looks cool. It'll be an awesome place to live."

She brightens, and nods excitedly. "Yeah," she says, "You're probably right."

If only I can convince myself of that fact.

**~DS~DS~DS~ **

"That's the key?" I say a few minutes later, staring at the huge thing Mom's holding. It looks like something out of the Victorian era, which would make sense. After all, the Collinwood Mansion was built over two hundred years ago.

Mom looks at the odd-shaped metal object in her hand and shrugs. "Yeah, I guess it is." She lowers it to the lock on the door and shoves it in, turning it slightly to the right until we hear a click from the other side of the door.

She takes a breath, then removes the key and grasps the handle. "Well," Mom says quietly, "Let's go in."

The door creaks when she opens it. A large shaft of sunlight immediately makes its way past us into the house, creating a path of yellow that's broken only by our shadows. Dust mites float though the air, invisible in the darkness but glowing white in the light.

"Cool," Todd says, squeezing his head between Mom and I, peering past us into the old house. Mom keeps a tight grip on him.

"Well," I say, having had enough of merely standing outside waiting for who-knows-what, "I'm going in."

The floor creaks as I step inside, making me flinch slightly.

"Tyler, be careful!" Mom warns me. I give her a thumbs up and keep going forward. My sneakers kick up even more clouds of dust, and I wave my hand in front of my face. Through the haze, I can see that the furniture is old-fashioned, with intricate details that are rarely seen, save for antiques. A grand staircase leads up to a high landing, and from there two more staircases branch off, leading to opposite ends of the mansion.

I turn back to face the others, who are still standing in the doorway. "It's safe," I tell them, my voice echoing around me. "You can come in. No rotten floorboards or anything like that."

Upon entering, my mom and sister both gasp in astonishment when they see the amazing detail that is everywhere in the mansion. Even in this room, which I think is called the parlor (why didn't I pay more attention in my history classes?), the artwork and handcrafted details are exquisite.

"Wow," Carrie breathes, gazing around with wide eyes. "Are we seriously going to be living here?"

"Believe it or not," Mom replies, "This is our new home."

"You think there are any tarantulas around here?" Todd asks excitedly. The three of us turn to give him looks of exasperation, annoyance, and confusion. "What?" he says defensively.

"Todd, this is Maine. Not the desert," Carrie says, smacking him lightly on the back of his head.

I roll my eyes and turn back to the staircase. "Can we go upstairs?" I ask.

Mom bites her lip as she comes to stand beside me. "I suppose," she says uncertainly, crossing her arms and shrugging slightly. "I guess that's probably where the rooms are."

"Probably."

She thinks for a moment before shrugging again. "Alright, let's go find our bedrooms." Mom turns back to my still squabbling siblings. "Are you two coming or what?" They immediately stop arguing and hurry in. The floor makes a racket as they do.

We make our way up the staircase, silent save for the creaking noises of the boards beneath our feet. When we reach the landing, we pause, unsure as to which direction we should go.

"There should be a map posted somewhere," Todd mutters, crossing his arms and leaning against the railing. Mom looks at him worriedly, probably scared that the railing was going to break under his weight.

"Maybe we should just try a random direction and see where it takes us," Carrie suggests, and when I look at her I see that her eyes are still wide as saucers. She's got a white-knuckle grip on her hot pink suitcases, and by the looks of her tense position, if anything jumps out of the shadows, she isn't afraid to use them as weapons.

"Alright," I say, making the decision for us. Mom remains silent, still chewing on her lip. Why is she so scared? It's not like there's anything in this house except us.

"Which way?"

"Left?" Carrie says, her statement coming out as a question.

I gesture towards the staircase in her chosen direction. "Lead the way."

She does, and the stairs lead us up even higher than before. The landing deposits us in a long hallway, along which are many closed doors. The lighting in this corridor is terrible, as the many large windows are covered by thick, heavy, and very dark curtains. I walk over to the closest window on my left and tug one of the curtains away, and light immediately floods the small area that is now uncovered. I pull back the other curtain, and a large rectangle of the floor is illuminated.

I cough and wave my hands in front of my face, furiously pushing away the millions of dust particles that my movements stirred up. "This place is filthy," I manage to choke out, moving back to stand with the others.

"It does need a good cleaning," Mom agrees, staring dolefully around. We watch as she rubs her eyes tiredly. Bringing her hands back down to her sides, she gives us a small smile.

"Well, let's get moving, shall we? We'll start by opening the curtains, and then we'll move on to picking out our rooms." Just like that, the small, weak moment is gone and Mom is back in full glory, ready to take charge again. We do as she says, making our way down the hallway, one window at a time.


	3. Chapter 3

_**CHAPTER THREE**_

"There!" Mom says proudly as she pulls the last curtain away from the final window, clapping her hands together to rid them of dust before wiping them on her jeans. "Done!"

I copy her motions, wiping my hands on my own jeans as I move to stand beside her, looking around at our handiwork. Now that the curtains are open, we can actually see one another. I see that Carrie is staring intently at something on the wall. I walk over to where she is and tap her gently on the shoulder. She turns to me and I smile gently.

"You alright?" I ask quietly.

She nods, turning back to gaze up at the wall. Confusion written all over her face, she asks, "Who's that?"

"Who?" I reply, following her stare. I find myself entranced like she is when I see a large portrait of a young man, dressed in fine clothing and holding a walking stick, posing gallantly. The picture looks old, judging by the way he's dressed. Probably something placed there by the original owners of the Collinwood Mansion.

"Oh," is all I can manage. Maybe it's just the crude brush strokes and odd-colored paints, but the man in the portrait is rather ugly. "I don't know who that is," I tell her honestly. "Mom?"

"What, honey?" she calls back, not looking up from smushing a bug with a Kleenex.

"Do you know who this is?"

She looks up, confused, but that quickly fades when she sees my finger pointing to the painting. "Oh, that's Barnabas Collins," she says, as if I have any idea who she's talking about. "He was the son of Joshua and Naomi Collins, the couple who moved here from Liverpool, England in the year 1760. They founded the town of Collinsport and built this mansion."

"And named if after themselves?" I guess, raising an eyebrow.

Mom nods, chuckling. "Exactly. They named both the town and their mansion using their own family name."

"Uh huh," I say, glancing at the portrait once more before reaching my arms up high in a stretch, feeling a satisfying pop in my back and shoulders. "So, can we go pick out our rooms now?"

Mom laughs. "Never one for history, were you Tyler? Alright, let's go pick out our rooms."

Todd whoops and races off ahead of us down the hallway. Carrie starts to run ahead, then stops and glances back at me as she begins to walk instead. I roll my eyes and jog up next to her, looping my arm through hers and tugging her along with me as I begin to run, following after Todd. Her breathless laughter makes me grin as we hurry along.

I also forget the portrait, and Barnabas Collins.

**~DS~DS~DS~**

The first room we come to has a large king-size bed, with a silk canopy draped over it. The walls have paintings of flowers all over; a collage of floral beings.

I notice Mom has her hand pressed to her mouth. "You like it?" I ask her. She nods, eyes wide. I hear Todd whining about something and turn in time to see Carolyn smack him on the arm.

"Ow!"

"Carrie!" I say, shocked and amused at the same time. "What was that for?"

"What she said!" Todd splutters, rubbing his arm furiously.

"He was being annoying," Carrie says, shrugging. Todd mutters angrily and digs around in his pocket, searching for his iPod no doubt. Carrie rolls her eyes and leans closer to me. "He was making fun of Mom," she explains quietly, so the other two won't hear. "He was just being rude and annoying."

"Oh," I reply. I glance at Todd who's tapping away on the device. He doesn't look up. I scowl and turn back to Mom, who's still staring wide-eyed around the room.

"Mom, if you like the room so much, then you take it," I tell her, placing my arm around her shoulders. She turns to me and I can see in her eyes how much she wants to.

"Are you sure?" she asks anyway. "None of you guys want it?"

"Mom, take it," I say firmly. "You deserve a room like this. I know how much you like flowers," I tell her, and that convinces her. She nods, walking over to the bed and dropping her suitcase on it.

"I'll use this one," she announces, smiling broadly. Todd merely nods while Carrie and I return her smile.

"Alright," Mom says, clapping her hands, "Who's next?"

"Todd," I say, and my brother glances up at the sound of his name.

"What?" he asks, his fingers still for a moment.

"Your room's next."

"Oh," he says, and goes back to his game, clearly uninterested.

I roll my eyes and lead the way to the next room.

The walls are plain, unlike Mom's, and the bed is a queen. Todd shrugs and throws his backpack on the bed. "Mine," he states simply.

The room next to that is much the same, save for the floral print on the walls like Mom's. Carrie claims it.

"What about the flowers?" I say, raising an eyebrow. Carrie's not normally a fan of plants.

She shrugs. "I'll make an exception. Besides, it's actually kind of pretty." She places her luggage on the queen-size bed, and the room is hers.

"Now for Tyler's," Carrie states, rubbing her hands together. "Now, it has to have a huge closet to fit all her clothes into, tons of storage space, no flowers on the walls-"

"I didn't say I wanted a huge closet!" I protest, cutting my grinning sister off. "Though it would be nice..."

"See?" Carrie smirks. I cuff her gently.

"Shut up."

"Tyler!" Mom calls from the hallway. "Come look at this one!"

She's gesturing to the doorway across the hall from Carrie's. I make my way over to where she is, and take a look around the room. It's huge, but I'm beginning to think that every room in this building is huge. The walls are plain, which is perfect - no patterns to draw attention away from my posters. Plus, the closet is large and spacious. Bingo.

"This is so mine," I say, dropping my Louis Vuitton suitcase on the bed and placing my hands on my hips, surveying the room. I'm already planning exactly where I want my Johnny Depp posters.

"Perfect," Mom says, smiling. "Now... Who's hungry?"

Three hands shoot up into the air immediately.


	4. Chapter 4

_**CHAPTER FOUR**_

We end up going out for fast food, and I swear McDonald's has never tasted so good. Mom stops at a furniture store to order in some appliances and hopefully a sofa or two, or maybe a love-seat. In case I do happen to somehow find a boyfriend in Collinsport, it would be nice to have somewhere to sit with him rather than on the floor.

The long drive home is relatively silent, save for the somewhat-staticky radio's noise. A man's tired voice is reading off news reports; mostly sports. I yawn and lean back against the headrest, dozing off for the rest of the ride.

**~DS~DS~DS~**

"Tyler!"

"What?!" I immediately wake up when I hear Carrie's urgent voice calling my name. I struggle, finding myself trapped by the seatbelt. "Where-" I start to say, but then cut myself off when I see her Chessy-cat grin. "Where's the fire, Carrie?" I ask sarcastically instead, unfastening my seatbelt and pressing the button to roll up the window.

Carrie steps back to allow me some room as I step out of the car, still shooting dirty looks her way. "What fire?" she says innocently, holding up her hands. "I was just going to tell you we're home."

I glare at her fiercely. "Do _not _tell me we're home unless you've somehow transported us back to New York, my pretty," I say through clenched teeth. My sudden wake-up call has put me in a bad mood, and Carrie's not exactly making it any better.

I stalk off towards the house, slinging my purse over my shoulder and brooding. Behind me, I hear Carrie following along and muttering, "If I had a dog named Toto, I'd grab him and run."

"Well, you don't," I call over my shoulder, "So you're stuck with me." I smirk at her and turn back to face the house, swinging my hips triumphantly.

"Yay me," Carrie says sarcastically, raising her voice a bit to be heard as I move faster, suddenly aching to be rid of her. "Stuck with the Wicked Witch of the West."

I glare at her and yank open the heavy door, letting it slam behind me.

Mom and Todd are already in the parlor, and they both glance up with surprised expressions upon my arrival. Their gazes quickly shift when the door opens again and Carrie walks in, closing the door a lot more quietly than I did. She looks over to me, crosses her eyes, then walks over to where Mom and Todd are standing. I linger by the door for a moment, then reluctantly go over to join them.

"I ordered in our appliances today," Mom's saying when I reach them. "Someone should be here with our sofas today sometime, and our fridge, stove, and microwave are coming in tonight, I believe."

She continues on about her purchases, telling the other two about what will be arriving later. Rather than stick around, I decide to roam around the mansion some more. I haven't yet seen much of it, and there is still much more to see.

I turn and walk away from the other three, my curiosity burning.

**~DS~DS~DS~**

Some time later, I grow tired of exploring and make my way downstairs. Glancing out the windows on the way down, I discover with a sense of alarm that it is now pitch-black outside. My steps become more and more hurried as I run down the stairs and through the parlor, following a golden glow into the den.

Heat washes over me, from a massive fire roaring in the fireplace. To my surprise, a sofa is now sitting in front of the fire, with Carrie sprawled over it. In front of her, sitting on the floor, is Todd. I glance around, but Mom is nowhere to be seen.

Oh, well. I shrug and walk over to the small sofa, sock-clad feet padding softly on the tiled floor. Though Carrie is practically taking up the entire thing, the sofa still looks comfy. I nudge her feet.

"Oi. Move over."

Carrie grumbles, but moves her feet enough for me to sit down. Todd leans back against my legs, and I separate my knees so he can lean against the sofa. I watch him playing on his iPod for a few minutes before I sigh and take out my iPhone. I have a long list of texts from my friends, and, slowly but surely, manage to reply to them all. I'm in the middle of writing a message to the girl who was my best friend back in New York when a deep, masculine voice fills the den.

I strain my ears to listen, but I'm unsure exactly as to what he's saying. Footsteps sound, and then a very pale young man with jet-black hair and matching eyes come to stand in front of us, with an older man who I recognize as Willie, the man Mom recently hired to take care of the estate and gardens. He seems rather dazed as he watches the younger man move closer to the sofa. He smiles with closed lips, which I notice are as dark as his hair. I scan him quickly, noticing a lot of things that are odd about him.

For example, the way he's dressed. A heavy, full-length trench coat, and beige boots that disappear beneath his pant legs. My eyebrows shoot up as I notice a tall walking stick with what appears to be a marble seahorse as a handle. Everything about him is dark: his clothing, his lips, eyes, and the heavy shadows around them. He's like a walking ad for a gothic clothing store.

"Are you stoned or something?" Carrie suddenly asks, breaking the tense silence. The stranger starts and turns to stare at her, still smiling with his mouth firmly closed.

"They tried stoning me, my dear," he tells her, speaking without moving his lips much. His voice is strongly accented, a tell-tale sign of English origin. He smirks. "It did not work."

"Tyler!" I hear Todd suddenly whisper, though none too quietly. "Carrie!" We glance down at him, and he points up. I follow his pointing finger to see an even larger replica of the painting we'd found upstairs while choosing our rooms. The same man is portrayed, posing regally with a walking stick.

A walking stick with a seahorse-handle.

"Ah, yes." The stranger turns, his coat whirling about him. "Rather uncanny, is it not? Worth every hour I spent posing." He looks back down to us with a proud look. Turning to me, he bows slightly. "Forgive me," he suddenly says. "My name is Barnabas Collins."

He extends a hand towards me, and despite the sinking feeling I have in my stomach, I reach out to take it. Our fingers briefly touch before a sharp voice cries out, "Children!"

I snatch my hand back and turn along with my siblings to see our mother hurrying through the doorway. She rushes over to the sofa, never taking her eyes off of the stranger. "Stay away from that man," Mom hisses, glaring at the man who introduced himself as Barnabas Collins. I glance down to my fingers briefly, which are still tingling from the momentary contact I'd had with his hand. Which, I suddenly remember, was as cold as ice.

"A word, please," Mom says to Mr. Collins, who in turn nods. She looks to us and fixes us with a firm glare.

"Tyler!" she says harshly. I look up and see, to my surprise, that she is staring down at me, stone-faced but with hopeful eyes. "Stay with me," she tells me, and though I have no doubt it's supposed to be a command, it sounds more like a plea. I nod and she turns to my siblings.

"Todd, Carrie, go to your rooms."

"But -" Todd starts to protest, but Mom's firm glare makes him think twice. He meekly nods instead and rises up off of the floor, shoving his iPod into his jeans' pocket. Carrie follows suit, snapping her magazine shut and hurrying after Todd. They reach the huge double doors and pause, glancing back at me. I raise my eyebrows and make an impatient gesture, and they waste no time hurrying out and closing the doors behind them.

The loud bang echoes around the den several times, its reverberating sound as noisy as my heartbeat is. I feel it pounding in my breast, pumping erratically as I, too, stand from the couch and wait for whatever it is my mother has planned.

"Who are you?" Mom finally asks, breaking the tense silence that had recently been holding us captive.

The man bows slightly. "My name is Barnabas Collins, Madam," he says gallantly, his black-as-coal eyes shining brightly. "I am here to -"

"To what?" Mom says, sounding annoyed. "Sell us something? Perform some wonderful trick and expect us to pay you for it? What, are you just another one of Collinsport's whackos who seem to think that entertaining the 'dark arts' - whatever they are - is something to be proud of?"

I stare at her in surprise, shocked that she would actually deign to interrupt someone who is speaking; besides her own children, of course. I suddenly have the urge to applaud her.

'Barnabas Collins' stares at her in stunned silence. "No, Madam," he finally says, "I'm not. I am simply here to claim that I have returned home where I belong."

"Home?" I speak up, staring at him doubtfully. He turns and raises an eyebrow at me, seemingly unimpressed. "This is _our _home now." _As much as I wish it wasn't_, I think to myself, not taking my eyes off of him.

He smirks. "Is that so?" His grip on the walking stick tightens ever so slightly as he silently challenges me to a verbal duel with his expression, which already seems to say, I've won.

I don't _think _so.

"Yes, that is so!" I say indignantly. "Besides, what proof do you have that this is your home? Just because you have the last name 'Collins' doesn't mean you're actually a distant relative of the original Collinses."

He lifts both eyebrows towards his stiffly curled bangs. "Who said anything about being a distant relative?" he asks me, then moves his walking stick in a forty-five degree turn. I hear a click, and then another click when he moves it again, and then I hear a low rumbling coming from beneath my feet.

I freeze in shock as the floor beings to move.


	5. Chapter 5

_**CHAPTER FIVE**_

The rumbling grows steadily louder as the fireplace, the fire within still burning brightly, begins to move backwards. Stone grates on stone, a harsh sound that burns my ears and makes me wince. Through it all, Barnabas merely stands there calmly, acting as though nothing at all is happening.

Finally, when everything stops shaking and moving, a large opening is revealed in the floor, and a dark abyss stares up at us like a giant's yawning mouth. A set of stairs leads down into the bowels of the mansion.

Barnabas gestures with his walking stick, motioning towards the stairs. Mom and I remain standing where we are, refusing to go down there. I refuse, at least. I haven't even glanced at Mom yet, since I'm still too petrified to move.

Barnabas sighs and beings descending the stairs, retrieving a lantern that hangs conveniently on a hook on the newly exposed wall. He lights it somehow, almost magically, and continues on towards the bottom without waiting for us.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn my head to see Mom standing beside me. Her eyes are wide, and I have no doubt mine are as well. She places a finger to her lips, and casts her eyes downward. I frown in confusion for a moment before I follow her gaze, looking down to see a short-handled, stout dagger in her hand.

"Where -" I start to ask, but she shakes her head and motions with her hands for me to take it. I hesitantly reach out and carefully grasp the handle, concealing it behind my back. Satisfied, she nods and then hurries down the stairs, trying to catch up to the quickly fading light.

Not wanting to be left behind, I scurry down the stairs, running up to the other two and slowing to a walk, mindful of the weapon I hold behind my back. _Hopefully_, I think to myself, walking carefully behind my mom, _I won't have to use it. _

The thought turns my stomach, and I quickly clear my mind and focus instead on keeping my balance on the unsteady floor, barely missing a rat's tail by inches. It squeaks indignantly and runs off into the shadows. None of this fazes Barnabas, who merely continues on with the lantern raised high, illuminating the dark tunnel.

"My father," I hear him say, "Had a flare for hidden doors and passageways. As a boy, I was fascinated by each and every one."

We come to a tall, iron gate. I see a large C emblazoned into the very center of the gate, bold and proud, just like the family it represents. Barnabas places a hand against it and pushes gently, and the gate swings open, its creaking joining the echoes of Barnabas' voice.

"But this," he says, leading us through another, shorter tunnel and then into a large, grand room, "This is my favorite."

"Oh, my god," Mom says quietly, raising a hand to her mouth as she gazes around at the treasures that surround us, the value of which can't possibly be calculated. "We've been sitting on top of a fortune."

"Indeed," Barnabas says smugly. He walks swiftly across the room to a large table, ignoring everything but a headless mannequin, nothing more than a small portion of a torso, really. It is bare save for a beautiful amulet which hangs on a thick chain, and the stone is a beautifully perfect ruby. Barnabas reverently lifts it and gazes at it for a moment before settling it gently around his neck.

Raising his hands slightly, he turns to us with a flourish. His shoulders are squared and his stance is that of a king. It's as though he feels that, by wearing the amulet, he has bestowed some sort of power upon himself.

I grip the dagger behind my back more firmly.

"Now that I am here again, I plan to restore the Collins' family business to its former glory," he says, beginning to walk towards us again, slowly, step by step. I watch him warily, grasping the dagger so hard that I'm sure the handle will be leaving imprints on my palm.

"What business?" I say quietly, trying not to flinch when he turns his black eyes on me. He stares at me for a moment, either having forgotten I was there at all, or debating whether or not to answer me.

Finally, he does. "The Collins Fishing Fleet and Cannery," he says, sounding proud. I frown. Cannery?

Mom notices my confusion. "It's a fishing plant," she tells me. "They fish and then can the prizes. Their products are in stores all over Maine. They're very popular."

I nod. "Oh, yeah, I can totally see how sardines would be popular," I say sarcastically.

Barnabas scowls at me, twisting his otherwise handsome features into a frightening expression. "It is no laughing matter, Madam," he says fiercely to me, giving me a scolding look. "The Collins family business is a matter of pride."

I shrug, choosing instead to look around at all the treasures. "Whatever you say."

"Tyler," Mom says warningly. I glance over at her, and she gives me a look that tells me I'd better shut up _now_.

I remember the dagger behind me and swallow hard.

Barnabas turns back to Mom, losing the scowl. "Madam, I simply ask that you would allow me to stay with you and your family. I assure you, none of you shall come to any harm."

"What do you mean?" Mom's voice is wary, and I can't say I blame her for being skeptical. I watch the pale man as he casts his eyes down slightly before looking back up to meet her steady gaze.

"I am a vampire, Madam," he says simply.

I don't realize my grip on the dagger as slackened until I feel it sliding down away from my fingers. I quickly reach down and grab it, securing it in my hands once more. Neither Barnabas nor my mother seem to notice my movement, and I allow myself a small sigh of relief.

"A vampire?" Mom breathes out, staring at him in shock.

"Regrettably so," he says, nodding his head a bit. "But, I assure you, your family is safe and will come to no harm. You have my word."

He holds out his hand for her to take, a hopeful expression on his face. Mom regards him for a moment, an unreadable expression guarding her thoughts.

"You may stay," she suddenly says, and I look at her in shock. She's seriously allowing him to stay? I open my mouth to protest, but she speaks again.

"On one condition," she says firmly, in a tone that rejects any objections. Barnabas nods and waits patiently, and she says, "I want this -" she waves her hand, gesturing to the items around the room "- to remain our secret."

Barnabas bows to her. "You have my word, Madam Stoddard."

Seeming satisfied, Mom reaches out and takes his hand. They shake, and she gives him a bright smile. "Welcome home, Barnabas."

He returns her smile, though again his lips are closed. I suddenly wonder what he would look like if he smiled with his lips open, showing his teeth. I shudder at the thought. His fangs would probably be rather frightening.

"Tyler?" I hear Mom say, bringing me out of my daydream.

Barnabas is looking at me expectantly. I glance down to see his hand reaching out to me, waiting for me to grasp it in my own. I hesitate, then do so. His hand is much larger than my own, and freezing cold. I try to pull back quickly, but his firm grip remains for a moment longer than I'd like.

"Welcome to the family," I mutter, placing my hand behind my back the moment he lets go. He smirks down at me, towering over me.

"Ah, but my dear Miss Tyler," he says, and I can't help but flinch, "I was already in the family."


	6. Chapter 6

_**CHAPTER SIX**_

We don't linger in the hidden room, and soon Barnabas is leading the way out again, back through the twisting, winding tunnel, and away from the golden glow of the treasures. I can't help but glance back as we walk, longing to stay and look some more.

Whoever said that diamonds are a girl's best friend is a genius.

Back in the den once more, Barnabas somehow closes the secret door with his walking stick, and once more I'm completely clueless to the fact that it's even there. The door is blended so well with the wall, no one would ever guess that a whole room is concealed beneath the floor. Which is probably for the better, considering the treasure trove the Collinses hid down there.

Mom shakes hands with Barnabas again, smiling and telling him that it's "A pleasure to have you with us, Barnabas, dear", as though she's talking to a young man instead of a two-hundred-year-old vampire. I roll my eyes and stand with my back to them, pretending the mantle is extremely interesting and I simply can't be bothered, all the while desperately searching for a place to put the dang dagger.

I hear a door opening, and then Mom calls out, "I'm going to go find your siblings, Tyler."

Without turning, I wave a hand in her general direction and the door closes again, and then silence reigns supreme. Footsteps sound behind me, slowly coming nearer and nearer. Despite my efforts not to, I shiver. A low chuckle sounds behind me.

"My dear Miss Tyler..." Barnabas says lowly, chuckling again. I turn, raising a brow and meeting his dark gaze challengingly. He smirks at me and comes closer again.

"Did you really think you could hide from me?" he suddenly asks, and I stare at him in confusion.

"Hide what?" I say, and the voice that speaks doesn't sound at all like myself. It sounds like that of a meek young girl, frightened and alone. Alone with a vampire.

He smiles, and surprisingly, his mouth is open this time, showing his teeth. I see the long, razor-sharp fangs and shiver even harder than before. He wouldn't bite me... Would he?

His hands come to place themselves on either side of me, resting on the smooth stones of the mantle. Towering over me, he lowers his face and says huskily, "This."

Suddenly, he reaches behind me and grips the dagger, yanking it out of my grasp and holding it up to his face. He raises his eyebrows and studies it, feigning indifference to it and giving me a mocking look. I look from the blade to him, seeing the firelight dance across the weapon. My heart pounding, I manage to keep from gasping aloud and instead swallow hard.

He notices and grins again, smiling wider when he sees me glance involuntarily at his teeth again. "Nervous, my dear?" he all but whispers, lowering his face - and the blade - towards me. I lean my head back away from him, making him chuckle.

"Not so brave after all, are you?" he whispers, tossing the blade onto the sofa. It lands with a hollow thud, and I find myself staring at it incessantly, desperate to have something to look at other than the man in front of me, who is, unfortunately, making butterflies dance in my stomach.

The sudden realization makes me angry. Why is it that a man I met barely an hour ago is already inducing such tantalizing feelings in me? I frown in annoyance and then deepen that to scowl when he leans his face even closer to mine, closing his eyes ever so slightly.

"Get off!" I hiss, pushing against his chest and sending him skittering back a few feet. I breathe heavily, glaring at him for a moment before wiping my hands on my jeans, suddenly feeling gross from even touching him for the briefest of moments. He watches with a raised eyebrow as I do so, before telling me, "I'm not poisonous, you know."

"How would you know?" I retort, crossing my arms and jutting out a hip cockily. He smirks, looking me up and down before leaning on his walking stick and crossing one ankle over the other.

"Just because I am a vampire does not mean I am capable of producing venom," he says, still wearing that stupid expression on his face. I have the urge to slap it off.

I raise an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Uh huh. Even so, I want no contact with you whatsoever." I uncross my arms and move around him, flinching when our arms brush slightly; cursing the tingles I feel like tiny jolts of electricity shooting up and down my limb.

As I move around the furniture and head for the doors, I hear him call out after me, "That will be rather difficult, Miss Tyler, considering I will be staying in this house with you and your family."

I turn, one hand grasping the door handle, the other placed firmly on my hip. "Just because we're in the same house does _not _mean I have to even talk to you."

I move to open the door, but his voice stops me again. "Ah, but Miss Tyler," he says, and I can almost hear his smirk as he crosses the distance between us rather quickly and stands beside me once more, "You won't be able to resist."

Scowling fiercely, I whirl on him and fix him with an icy glare. "We'll just see about that." With that, I throw open the door and stomp furiously through the parlor, practically running up the stairs to my room and slamming the door behind me.

Once inside, I begin pacing. My thoughts are running a thousand miles a minute, and to my annoyance, most of them are revolving around him. Why the heck would he even try to kiss me, seeing as there would have to be a monstrous age gap between us? Unless he was just trying to seduce me.

I freeze mid-step and clench my fists. That son of a half-wit is _so _going to pay for this.

My blood begins to boil. I try pacing again to calm myself down, but it's no use at all. Then, my eyes fall on my suitcase, still resting on my bed, and an idea sparks. I hurry over to it and yank open the zipper, digging through it impatiently until I come to my Johnny Depp posters, thankfully all still rolled neatly without a dent or rip. Grinning, I carefully take them out and lay them gently on my bed, handling them like precious porcelain dolls.

Pursing my lips in thought, I remove the elastic off of one and unroll it, holding it out in front of me. I smirk when I see it's the Mad Hatter poster, from Tim Burton's _Alice in Wonderland _film. I absolutely adored Johnny's character in that movie, and for a while, everything in my bedroom back in New York was _Alice in Wonderland_. Posters, the occasional doll or replica of something used in the movie, and even a top hat like Johnny's. Needless to say, I was obsessed.

I rummage around again for my small package of Blu-Tack, and grin triumphantly when I find it. Grabbing my poster again, I scan the room until I find the perfect place for it: right beside my closet.

Feeling rejuvenated, I stand on tip-toe and carefully place the poster against the wall, tearing off bits of Blu-Tack to hold it in place. Thankfully, it takes my mind off of Barnabas Collins, and I drift off into a blissful state of mind where vampires are simply a figment of Stephanie Meyer's imagination.


	7. Chapter 7

_**CHAPTER SEVEN**_

Just as I'm finishing placing the last piece of Blu-Tack behind the Mad Hatter poster, I hear a knock on my door. "Who is it?" I call around a piece of sticky putty between my lips, and my question sounds more like, "Oo iiff ih?"

"Carrie," comes the response, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Placing the last piece of putty behind the poster, I remove the piece I'm holding with my lips and move back to the bed, unrolling another one.

"Come on in."

The door opens to reveal Carrie, dressed in a black-and-white striped tank and faded jeans. At my surprised look, she tells me, "My clothes felt grungy from being in them for the entire ride here."

I nod in understanding, suddenly feeling rather grungy myself. "Do we have a shower here?" I ask her. She shakes her head.

"I think Mom is getting one installed tomorrow though."

Sighing, I focus on the next poster: a hot shot of Johnny in the movie _Chocolat_, seductively popping a small chocolate into his mouth. It makes me drool every time I look at it, and it's not just the chocolate I find yummy, either.

Carrie watches as I climb onto my bed and pin it up above the headboard, where Johnny in all his hotness will remain looking down on me while I sleep, a fantasy I can only live out via my posters. I hear her sigh while I dreamily run a finger over his face, wondering if his skin is really as smooth as it looks. "You're obsessed."

I roll my eyes and begin placing the Blu-Tack behind the corners. "What girl in her right mind wouldn't be?" I trace his jawline again, trying to refrain from kissing it.

"Me," Carrie says, and I can perfectly picture her rolling her eyes and raising her eyebrow at me as if to say, _Really? _

"Like, seriously," I continue, ignoring her. "He's just so... Hot." I pretend I've burned my finger and stick it in my mouth, turning to face Carrie as I pop it out again and make a sizzling noise. She snorts at me and walks over to flop down on my bed.

"Hey, careful!" I snap, almost dropping the Blu-Tack when she narrowly avoids sitting on a poster. "I paid good money for these!"

"They were only five bucks a piece," Carrie points out, and I scowl at her.

"To me, that's good money."

"Scrooge," she shoots back at me, and sadly, I can't argue with that. The only thing I spend my money on without a care in the world is anything manufactured by Aeropostale.

We bicker back and forth, while I put up my posters and she reclines on my bed, occasionally telling me "It's crooked" or "That's not the best place for it". Finally, all seven of my posters are placed, and I gratefully flop onto my bed beside her.

I look around at my newly decorated room and nod approvingly. "I think it looks bloody awesome."

Carrie shoots a look at me. "You think everything is bloody."

"She _what_?" rasps a voice suddenly from the doorway.

Carrie and I both shoot up at the same time, gasping in shock when we see Barnabas standing just outside of my room, staring in at us with his mouth hanging open and his dark eyes shining brightly. I scowl at him and wave my hand impatiently.

"Nothing! Now go on, shoo!"

"Tyler!" Carrie admonishes me, and I mutter while she explains. "I was just teasing her," she tells him, ignoring me when I stick my tongue out at her. "She says the word 'bloody' a lot when describing things. Like just now, she said her room looks 'bloody awesome'."

"Oh," Barnabas says, before shifting rather uncomfortably. "I, uh, wasn't sure what she meant." He glances around my room before tentatively asking, "May I come in?"

I hesitate. My earlier encounter with him still has me shaking, though I don't feel annoyed with him any longer. Merely frightened of him, and more than a little scared of the fact that he'd gotten that close to my face when I was in a room alone with him. The image of his fangs still haunts my mind.

Swallowing hard, I console myself with the fact that Carrie is here with us, and decide that I will not allow her to leave before he does. I nod. "Yeah. Come on in."

He carefully steps inside, taking slow and moderate steps to finally stand beside the bed. "I see you have been decorating," he says, gazing around at the posters. His brow furrows. "Who are these men?" Barnabas glances at me, shock clouding his features. Shock and... Anger?

Mentally shaking my head, I chuckle at Barnabas' mistake. "They're all different pictures of one man."

Barnabas frowns even deeper and walks over to gaze at a poster of Johnny dressed up as Willy Wonka, scanning the picture from top to bottom. "What is he wearing?" he says indignantly, though he isn't really one to talk. Gone is the trench coat; now, he's wearing a black suit, complete with a cravat. He doesn't have his walking stick, however; an odd feat for him. He usually has it with him everywhere he goes.

I scold myself harshly. I shouldn't be keeping track of what he does or doesn't do. Those are the sure signs of infatuation, and I will not allow myself to become obsessed with the likes of Barnabas Collins.

"He's wearing his costume," I tell him, placing my arms behind my head and gazing up at the ceiling. I wonder if I could find some glow-in-the-dark stars or something to put up there.

"Costume?" he says, wrinkling his brow.

I look at him in exasperation. How can he not know what a costume is? Shaking my head, I sigh and say, "It's like... Something actors wear when they're playing a part for a movie."

"You mean like a play?" he asks, seeming to brighten. I think back to his time and automatically think of Shakespeare. "Um, yeah. Sure."

"So these men... They're all the same person?" he says, walking around my room slowly, occasionally reaching up to gently touch a poster.

"Yeah," I say, and he nods, staring at the _Chocolat _poster. He seems mesmerized by it, and starts to reach out to touch it when his hand suddenly comes into contact with the sunlight pouring through my window. The drapes are open, and the room is ten times brighter than it was before. His hand starts to sizzle like an egg on a frying pan, and he quickly pulls it back, flexing his fingers a bit.

"Oh," he says simply. He shifts again, glancing over at me. His coal-black eyes are wide and almost apologetic when he says, "I must go see what my servant... Rather, Willie is doing. I need his assistance..." His voice trails off for a minute. Shaking his head a little, he says in a rush, "Excuse me." before bowing and hurrying out of the room.

I watch him leave, puzzling over what just happened. His hand catches fire in the sunlight? I shiver. Any small hopes I had of him merely trying to fool me with fake Halloween fangs dissolves instantly. The sudden realization hits me like a two-by-four.

We're living with a vampire.

I almost laugh. Where's Tim Burton when you need him?

"What the heck was that?" Carrie suddenly shrieks, shooting up to a sitting position and staring at me incredulously. She pulls her knees up to her chest and scoots back to lean against the wall. "His hand..." she says quietly, and I can't blame her for sounding so frightened. For a girl who loves the _Twilight _series, seeing something like this in real life instead of a movie is a shock to one's system.

"I know," I say sullenly, pushing myself back to curl up in the same position as she is.

Carrie's blue eyes widen even more. "You already knew? And you didn't tell me?"

I blink at her, feeling like an owl. "Know what?"

She scowls at me, jabbing her finger towards my face. "Don't act stupid with me, Tyler Ellen Stoddard! You knew he's a vampire, and you didn't tell me! Why the bloody heck didn't you tell me?"

I wince. If Carrie uses what she deems a 'cuss word', then she is not happy. At all. The object of her wrath is always given a full-out scolding - yelling and all - and, unfortunately, that object was now me. I'd once seen Todd come running up to me bawling his eyes out while bleeding all over me from a broken nose, courtesy of Carrie. Needless to say, I'm more than a little wary of now being less than five inches away from her.

"I wasn't supposed to," I say monotonously, unable to look at her. Unable to endure seeing the hurt in her eyes. I've always told her everything, and to not tell her something as big as this is the lowest I've ever sunk. "Mom wanted it to remain a secret between the three of us."

"The three of us?"

"Barnabas, Mom, and me," I tell her, and for once she doesn't correct my grammar. I find myself wishing she would.

"When?" she asks, and although she doesn't complete the sentence I know exactly what she means.

"Today," I say. "He showed us a hidden door and passageway, in order to convince us he's the real Barnabas Collins. Then..." I try to tell her about what he did after, but my throat suddenly constricts and tears begin burning my eyes. She places her arm around my shoulder, allowing me to lean into her.

I start to sob, spilling out the story of what happened when Mom left. Until now I haven't realized just how shaken I am, both by the stunning news of his true identity and the threat he'd posed to me. Carrie's grip tightens as I stutter, wiping furiously at my eyes and nose.

When I finish, she has a vice-like hold on my shoulder, securing me in place beside her. Sighing, she tells me, "He won't do it again. _I'll _make sure of that."

"What do we do?" I sniffle, looking up at her. The reversed situation feels odd, different. Usually she's the one looking to me for advice and help. This time, I'm the one who feels weak. The strong now the broken.

Carrie bites her lip, looking like a mirror's reflection of Mom. "I don't know," she says honestly, and I almost start crying all over again. I've heard my friends say jokingly before that 'every family has its demons', but I've always laughed it off.

I'm not laughing now.


	8. Chapter 8

_**CHAPTER EIGHT**_

The rest of the evening passes uneventfully, thankfully with Barnabas nowhere in sight. Carrie helps me put up the last of my posters, and slowly my mood lightens. Carrie finds my laptop in my suitcase, and opens it up, finding my iTunes and playing 'No More Mr. Nice Guy' by Alice Cooper. She begins dancing to it, trying to look like a seductive, but looks more like a stoned hooker.

"You look ridiculous," I tell her honestly, tossing the Blu-Tack wrapper on my bed. "You need dancing lessons."

"I can dance," Carrie protests, pouting. She twirls and nearly knocks herself flat on her bottom. I snort and raise an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah," I say sarcastically, "You really can dance. Amazing skills." She bows while I applaud her and try to bite back a laugh.

I glance at my watch and feel my eyes widen in shock when I see that both hands of the clock are pointing to the twelve. "Are you kidding me? It's midnight already?"

Carrie frowns. "I don't wanna go to bed," she tells me, pouting again and crossing her arms. In this current stance, she looks like a five-year-old instead of the ornery teenager she really is.

I walk over to where she is and grasp her arms, tugging her gently to a stand. "Yes, you do," I say firmly, walking her to the door where she abruptly stops and refuses to budge.

"Wait," she says quietly, biting her lip. "Can I, uh..." she trails off, shuffling her feet nervously.

"Can you what?" I ask, and she blushes furiously.

"Sleep in here tonight?" Carrie asks quietly, looking up and meeting my eyes shyly. "I mean, I know I'm fifteen and all... But the whole vampire thing..."

I place a hand on her arm and feel her trembling. "Of course, baby girl," I tell her, bringing her back into the room and closing the door. I give her a pair of my pajamas, though they're a little small for her. She's a bit bigger than me; two inches taller than me at five-foot-seven.

She climbs into the huge bed first, while I pull on a pair of shorts and a tank top, then go over and close the drapes. The room is pitch-black, and without a lamp set up yet, I can barely see my hand in front of my face, let alone my sister beside me. I slide under the covers and turn onto my side to face her.

"You okay?" I ask her, and she nods, though I can still feel her shaking. I pull her closer to me and hold her firmly, gently running my hand over her hair and whispering "It's okay, baby girl" over and over till her breathing calms and she drifts off to sleep.

I lie awake for a while, watching the door incessantly until finally, my eyelids begin to droop, and I drift off into a dreamland filled with golden amulets and black, glittering eyes.

**~DS~DS~DS~**

The next morning, I awaken to a pounding on my bedroom door. I groan and blearily rub my eyes, looking beside me to see Carrie still sound asleep, gripping the bed covers and breathing deeply. I carefully slide out from beside her, trying not to disturb her. She shifts slightly, but doesn't wake.

I walk over to the door, running my fingers through my wild brown hair, trying to make it at least a bit presentable. Tugging my plaid shorts down a little lower, I adjust my tank top straps and open the door.

Standing in front of me, fully-dressed in another black suit, is Barnabas. He looks up from studying a huge ring on his right index finger, eyes widening when he takes in my outfit.

"My goodness, Miss Tyler," he says huskily, while I roll my eyes and cross my arms, involuntarily pushing up my boobs and showing more cleavage. He rather obviously tries not to look there, but does anyway and whispers, "What are you wearing?"

"Pajamas?" I say, raising an eyebrow. He swallows hard and manages to look up and meet my eyes.

"Where I'm from," he begins, voice hoarse as though he'd been shouting, "The women wear silk nightgowns with high collars and frilly sleeves. The hemlines are extremely low; some even go all the way to the floor."

I wrinkle my nose. "How do they sleep with those things on?"

He clears his throat, glancing down at my exposed knees before saying, "It is custom. Now, the reason for my disturbing you this early -"

"Which should be illegal," I mutter.

"Is because your mother has asked that you take me into town and pick out some things for the house," he continues, ignoring my statement. "And I might have a look around as well," he adds, and I look at him in confusion.

"For?" I say, leaning against the doorframe.

"Clothes," he says simply, and my eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

"You're going to try twenty-first century clothing?" I say dubiously. He shifts, clearly uncomfortable with the idea, though he lifts his chin defiantly and squares his shoulders as he says, "Yes."

I grin, pushing away from the wall and reaching for the door. "I'll be downstairs in five minutes."

Carrie sits up as I close the door and flounce over to my suitcase, lying open on the floor beside my still empty closet. I peel off my pajamas and replace them with jeans and an Aero T-shirt, shoving my feet into a my sneakers. "Where are you going in such a rush?" she demands as I grab a sweater on impulse and quickly run a brush through my hair, pulling it up into a high ponytail.

"Shopping," I reply, going over to the door again.

"Can I come?" she asks eagerly, swinging her feet over the side of the bed and stretching.

I hesitate with my hand on the knob. "I'm taking Barnabas to the mall," I tell her, wincing when she shrieks. "Mom said to," I quickly say, holding my hands up surrender-style.

"Still!" she hisses, "Doesn't she know what happened with you and him yesterday?"

"Nope," I say, and then duck when she throws a sock at me. "Gotta go!" I call over my shoulder, running down the hallway. "Love you Carrie!" Her angered yelling follows me as I run down the stairs into the parlor, where Mom and Barnabas are waiting.

She hands me the keys, and I eagerly accept them. It's been so long since I've been in the driver's seat, and I'm anxious to get this party started. Mom senses my anticipation and laughs.

"Alright, alright!" she chuckles, kissing me on the cheek before finally allowing me to burst free from her embrace and rush over to the door. "Be careful!" she calls after me, and I merely wave a hand at her warnings as I eagerly open the door of the navy blue Toyota and step inside. The leather seat feels familiar beneath me, like an old friend who I haven't seen in forever. I start up the vehicle and cheer in excitement when the gentle rumbling greets me.

Barnabas finally exits the house, clad in his huge, heavy trench coat, a fedora hat, and sunglasses. He carries an umbrella, also black like everything else he's wearing, over him to block out the sun. I snicker. He reminds me of one of those prissy women from old history movies who carried parasols around.

"Ready?" I ask as he clambers in with the umbrella, holding it in front of him against the windshield. He glances over at me and nods without removing the sunglasses. I sigh in annoyance, drumming my hands on the wheel.

"Do you seriously have to carry that thing around all day?" I demand, balking at the thought of walking around the mall with him carrying an umbrella.

He shrugs. "Do you want me to burst into flames?"

I bite my cheek and throw the gear into reverse. "You really don't want me to answer that."

He remains silent, and I follow suit, carefully guiding the car around the disfunctional fountain and down the twisting driveway until we reach the open road. Then I pull out onto the asphalt, and grin in excitement. Finally, I'm going to see the inside of a mall again.


	9. Chapter 9

_**CHAPTER NINE**_

Barnabas watches me as I glance away from the road for a moment to tune the radio to my favorite station. He raises a brow above his sunglasses, but says nothing. He's been silent for the entire car ride, merely sitting there holding his umbrella in front of him to block out the sun.

I look over at him. "Any particular type of music you want to listen to?" I ask him. I don't want to take him into the city; the only reason I'm doing this is to keep Mom happy and to get a chance to go shopping myself. I have two Aeropostale gift cards, both worth fifty dollars, that are crying out to me from my wallet. Not to mention my Visa.

"Whatever you like," is his response. I hazard another glance at him, beginning to get annoyed with the whole 'strong, silent type' facade. He doesn't say anything else, and I turn back to the road with a frown. I'm not sure if I can take a whole hour of this until we reach Andover.

Thankfully, the road trip passes by quickly, probably helped along by the music. Barnabas gazes around the umbrella at the hectic traffic and street lights, no doubt wide-eyed behind the sunglasses. I stop at a red light, sighing as I press the button to roll my window up and then turn on the air conditioning.

Barnabas flinches at the blast of cold air and I blush, muttering an apology as I turn it down. "What is that?" he says, staring at the assortment of buttons on the dash.

"The AC," I tell him, watching the street light. A car pulls up beside us and squeals slightly as it stops. I glance over briefly, unintentionally catching the eye of the girl in the passenger seat. She smiles at me, but then loses it again when she looks over at Barnabas. She stares at him for a moment, then turns and nudges the male driver. He leans around her and gazes at Barnabas, their expressions that of shock and confusion.

I blush even more and sink down in my seat a little.

Barnabas, unaffected by the stares, turns to me and asks, "What are we waiting for?"

I look over at him and point to the street light, which, unfortunately for me, is still a bright red. "The light to change."

He looks at it and frowns. "Can't we just keep going? Why must we wait for a silly little light to change color?"

Resisting the urge to bash my head against the wheel, I gesture to the traffic passing in front of us. "That's why," I tell him. "If we pulled out now there would be a major accident."

He nods, seeming to understand. He continues gazing around at the cars and people, who stare back at him in turn, probably wondering why on earth a man would be wearing a trench coat in this heat. Actually, I'm starting to question his outfit, as well.

"Aren't you hot with that thing on?" I ask him, trying to ignore the car next to us. The girl now has her window rolled down and is shouting something, but thankfully her voice is muffled.

Barnabas cracks a small grin. "Which thing?" he replies, and I smile back at him. A little. I still don't entirely trust him, nor do I feel assured that he won't try to bite me in my sleep or something.

"The coat."

He shrugs. "Not really. Temperatures don't really affect me."

I look at him, curious. "Really?" My thoughts begin to go into overdrive. How cool would that be? To be able to go anywhere and not be affected by the heat - or cold, in winter time. You'd be able to go swimming when it's forty below outside!

"But," he adds, "The sun does. As you've seen, if my skin comes into contact with its rays, I burst into flames."

My daydream quickly dissolves. Oh, yeah. Heat or near-freezing may not affect him, but the sun is a killer - literally. I grimace.

He notices and grins again. "But I manage."

I quickly replace it with a blank look. He'd mistaken it for one of sympathy. I hear him chuckle and feel my face begin burning again, and it has nothing to do with the sun.

The light suddenly changes to green, and I immediately press as hard on the pedal as I dare, speeding out of the intersection and up onto an overpass, where I have to stop again and wait my turn getting onto a bridge.

"Come on, come on," I mutter angrily, impatiently thumping the wheel with my hands while urging the car ahead of me to move forward. "Hurry up!"

Barnabas raises an eyebrow at my actions, turning his head to look at me. "Troubles, Miss Tyler?"

"Yes," I hiss, suddenly feeling a pang of hunger in my stomach. "I'm starving." Not entirely true, but in a few minutes, it will be.

"Shall we go eat first, before we shop?" Ah, Barnabas. Ever the gentleman.

I glance over at him, moving the car forward onto the bridge ahead of us. "Are you hungry?"

He lifts one shoulder a bit. "I don't... Eat." He swallows hard, and I almost feel sympathy for him when I remember his 'condition'. Of course, the only thing his system can digest is blood. I squirm a little in my seat. Ew.

"If you are hungry, however, I am perfectly fine with stopping to get something."

I bite my lip a little, trying to ignore the persistent grumbling coming from my midsection. My stomach finally stops mumbling and outright roars. Barnabas chuckles while I blush furiously. An opening appears to get onto the bridge and I immediately take it, squealing the tires slightly as I propel the car forward.

"I think we should get you something to eat," he tells me, and I feel the corners of my mouth twitch.

"If you say so."

**~DS~DS~DS~**

"What sorcery is this?" Barnabas murmurs as I pull up to the intercom, hearing a voice through the static and noises of the McDonald's restaurant in the background.

I place my finger to my lips before turning to the intercom and telling the bored cashier my order. She responds with my total and I drive up to wait behind another car.

Barnabas looks at me, raising a brow over the sunglasses. "What was that?"

I shrug. "It's called an intercom. The person inside the restaurant takes your order, and makes it up while you go up to the other window."

He looks horrified. "You mean that you talk into that contraption, and another person can hear you and respond?"

I purse my lips. "Yes."

Shaking his head, Barnabas mutters something. I roll my eyes and drive slowly up to the window, where a bag and diet Coke are thrust at me with a hasty greeting before the window is slammed shut again. I set the things on top of the cup-holders beside me and drive away, waiting for an opening in the traffic before I can pull out.

Barnabas sniffs deeply, inhaling the delicious scents now filling the car. "What is that smell?" he asks, licking his lips.

"Hamburger, fries, and chicken nuggets," I reply absentmindedly, watching the cars whiz by before finally a driver stops and gestures for me to go in front of him. I send him a grateful wave and drive out onto the highway, taking my place in the long line of cars "Want some?"

He eyes the bag, but shakes his head hastily. "No, no thank you."

I shrug. "Your loss." I dig into the bag and manage to unwrap the hamburger, biting into it gratefully. I feel his eyes on me as I do so, but I ignore him, and eventually he sighs and looks away.

The drive to the shopping mall is silent except for the occasional crunching of french fries in my mouth. By the time we pull into the parking lot, the food is devoured and I'm chugging down the last of my Coke.

I find a parking space that's thankfully close to the doors. Barnabas sits and gazes at the massive building, still hiding behind his umbrella.

"We're going in there?" he says, not looking at me. I roll my eyes. He sounds like we're planning a mission to Mars instead of merely going into a shopping mall. I open my door and step outside, leaning back in to tap his arm. He turns to look at me, my reflection staring back at me from his sunglasses.

"You want to stay out here and bake or come in here and help me pick out some furniture?" I ask him, and he hesitates for a moment, but then nods and opens his door. Carefully positioning the umbrella, he looks at me and bows his head slightly, offering his arm to me in a way that was expected of a gentleman... Well, two hundred years ago.

"Shall we?" he says, and although some people give us odd looks, I give him a small smile and tentatively place my hand on the crook of his elbow. He immediately pulls me closer, as though letting me go is just something he can't bear to do. A small, pleased feeling begins to flutter around my stomach like a butterfly on a sugar high. I squash it down and look up at Barnabas, who's smiling down at me.

"We shall."


	10. Chapter 10

_**CHAPTER TEN**_

"_We were both young when I first saw you_..."

I try to resist the urge to roll my eyes as I walk alongside Barnabas. Whoever's choosing music seems to be on a Taylor Swift rampage today.

There isn't a large crowd at the mall, which is good, considering the man beside me is carrying an umbrella. Under normal circumstances, say, if it was actually raining, I wouldn't care. At the moment, however, Barnabas may as well be an alien.

"Do you really need to hold that thing up constantly?" I hiss into his ear when another shopper passes by us with an open-mouthed stare. "You're drawing attention."

He gazes down at me, eyes hidden behind those ridiculous sunglasses. "The sun is shining," he points out, gesturing to the skylights above us. I scowl and turn away from him, digging my phone out of my pocket in the hopes of making other people think I'm not with the weirdo.

Unfortunately, he's intent on sticking as close as possible to me. "Do you mind?" I finally snarl after about ten minutes of him being practically glued to my side. "I'm trying to send a message to Sasha."

He looks puzzled. "Who?"

"My friend Sasha. From New York," I reply, turning back to the screen and thumbing a message. I send it and return the phone to my pocket, not wanting him to see my conversation. Sasha does have a habit of bringing up topics that can be... Rather _awkward _for some people. Not to mention Barnabas would be like a curious toddler, asking a thousand and one questions.

I shudder. No, thank you.

"Are you cold? Barnabas suddenly asks, and I glance over at him to see him already reaching for the buttons of his trench coat with his free hand. I raise an eyebrow at him.

"In ninety degree weather? I think not." I turn back to window-shopping, keeping my eyes peeled for sales or furniture stores.

I spot a BOGO sale at Roots, for jeans. I automatically start heading in that direction, but a hand grasping my arm makes me stop. I glance back to see Barnabas standing there, stone-faced as usual.

"Have you forgotten?" he asks. "Your mother would like us to pick out furniture. That," he says, nodding towards the Roots store, "Does not appear to be a store that sells furniture."

"No crap, Sherlock," I mutter, reluctantly following him as he moves on, seemingly oblivious to how I'm practically drooling at the thought of owning another pair or two of those adorable jeans. The thought of missing a major sale like that is almost enough to send me into a panic.

We stroll through the corridors, and my ears are bombarded with hundreds of different songs playing in each of the stores. I'm surprised to see a Garage store here, but I'm not complaining. Refusing to take 'no' for an answer this time, I grab Barnabas' arm and drag him over.

He frowns at the neon sign above the entrance. "Garr-ahge?" he says, struggling to pronounce the word. I roll my eyes and ignore him, letting go of his arm to move deeper into the store, eagerly eyeballing the place.

Barnabas quickly follows after me, no doubt feeling overwhelmed by the bright, colorful display: a collage of blow-ups of models, displays of clothes, signs declaring prices and sales, and mannequins proudly modeling the store's fashion. I walk over to a rack of scarves and begin looking, perfectly comfortable amid the noise of one of Nicki Minaj's trashy songs playing overhead. I glance over at Barnabas and catch him staring at one of the blow-ups: a model wearing a hot pink bikini.

I smirk. "See something you like?"

He quickly turns to me, looking almost guilty. "I... No," he stammers, tentatively reaching out to touch one of the scarves. "When did they start allowing women of the night on state grounds?" he asks me, and it's all I can do not to drag my palm over my face.

**~DS~DS~DS~**

A few minutes later, we leave the store, sadly for me, empty-handed. Some of the tension leaves Barnabas' shoulders, and he's visibly more relaxed as we continue through the mall. I pout a bit, having wanted to buy something in there, but Barnabas wouldn't stop staring at the posters of bikini-wearing women. At the same time, though, I really can't blame the guy. He's been locked away for over two hundred years.

Said man suddenly points to a store on my left. "There," he says triumphantly, like he's made a big accomplishment. "That is precisely the store we're looking for."

I didn't even know we were looking for a specific store, but I shrug anyway and go along with him as he crosses the corridor with long strides that leave me almost jogging to keep up.

Inside the store, I'm overcome with a sense of being transported to a Leon's. This place is like a mini-me of Leon's, with a huge king-size bed in one corner and a desk and chair in the other. Barnabas walks in with his shoulders squared, as comfortable as he is back at Collinwood.

He marches straight up to the desk, where the tiny girl behind the counter stares back at him timidly. "We would like to see..." he begins, then stops and turns to me, his face a question mark.

I step in. Smiling kindly at the girl, I say, "If it's not too much trouble, we're in need of some lamps," I tell her. "We'd like to see some models and then perhaps order some."

She nods hastily, moving out from behind the counter and leading us over to an extremely bright area of the store, where a large display of lamps awaits us. I suddenly wish I have Barnabas' sunglasses.

The girl, who's still staring timidly at Barnabas, says, "These are all we have right now. If you need any assistance with anything, please let me know." She quickly turns and hurries back to the counter, where she huddles behind the desk and watches us with wide eyes.

Barnabas watches her go, then turns back to me. "Which do you like?" he asks me, unaffected by the light.

"Um..." It's actually hard to decide. Making a decision about anything is difficult with this much light shining right at you. I finally spot a decent-looking lamp that's covered with a yellowish shade and point at it. "That one. I think Mom would like it." It's convenient, really, since it's not too large, not too small... I shake my head. I'm starting to sound like Goldilocks.

"Very well. Then we shall purchase... How many?"

I sigh, shaking my head at him and waving him after me as I go back to the desk. There, I fill out a form, placing my signature at the bottom and sliding it back across the desk where the girl scans it briefly, then places it neatly into a file folder. "Have a nice day," she says, still giving Barnabas wary looks.

Once we're out of the store, I find myself breathing a sigh of relief. Barnabas glances down at me. "Is there anything wrong, Miss Tyler?"

I send him a small smile. "No. I just don't like shopping for furniture, is all."

He nods, but says nothing more on the matter as we meander along, with me occasionally glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. For some reason, he reminds me of a puzzle; a puzzle with a thousand tiny pieces that I'm struggling to piece together, desperately trying to see the full picture. He's so intriguing, and I want to see what lies behind the stone-face masquerade he wears all the time. Yet he refuses to give me more than a little piece at a time, and I cling to them, linking them together one by one, hoping that maybe I'll get to see a little more of who he is as a person, and less of who he is as a vampire.


	11. Chapter 11

_**CHAPTER ELEVEN**_

I'm ready to slap Barnabas.

He's staring wide-eyed at another blow-up of a model in a bikini, this time in an Aeropostale store (turns out they have heard of it way out here in the sticks). I scowl in annoyance and try to focus on the display of canvas tote bags in front of me, but the man beside me is unknowingly distracting me. Which is only adding to my annoyance. I've always prided myself on being independent and not like the flirts at my school, but Barnabas is making me feel insecure and all... Butterfly-ee. I don't like it at all.

As I peruse the display, a white canvas tote catches my eye. I pick it up and examine it, admiring the navy stitching that outlines 'AEROPOSTALE', written in three separate lines. I unzip it and move aside the crumpled paper, pleased when I see just how much space is inside the bag. I check the tag. It's on sale, for fifteen percent off. Perfect.

I tap Barnabas on the arm. He turns from gazing at a young blonde with huge boobs and a perky little butt to look down at me. "Yes?"

I hold up the bag. "I'm going to go pay for this," I tell him, eyeing the blonde. She's moving around the store, selecting tiny pairs of shorts and equally small tank tops. I roll my eyes and look back at Barnabas. "You coming, or do you want to stay and flirt?"

He swallows, glancing over at the woman again. "Ah... I'll go with you."

Despite my efforts to squash it, a small, happy feeling begins to flutter around in my stomach. As I walk over to the counter, I can't help but wonder, _What have you done to me, Barnabas? _and glance over at the blonde. She's staring hungrily at Barnabas, but then frowns when he comes to stand beside me as I place bag on the counter and smile at the cashier. I smirk a little.

Tyler: one, Blondie: zero.

**~DS~DS~DS~**

We walk around the mall for another hour or so, but I start to get tired. Barnabas, of course, immediately picks up on this and announces that I need to go home. Reluctantly letting him take my arm and begin directing me out of the mall, I can't help but glance back at the stores and feel a pang, like a mother leaving her children with a babysitter.

Now, we're sitting in the car with the engine running, the AC blasting cold air in our faces, and the radio blaring out, "_Your love, your love, your love - is my drug!_" I scowl at the small screen on the dashboard. It's not exactly providing a remedy for the butterfly effect I'm still feeling sitting here next to him.

Barnabas watches me as I struggle to remove the crumpled paper from my recently-purchased canvas tote and toss it in the back before moving on to my old bag, removing the contents and placing them into the new one. He shakes his head.

"Is that really necessary?" he asks me, lips twitching as he tries not to laugh as he watches me try to yank the tag off of the bag.

"Yes," I growl, glaring at the offending tag. There's no way I'm going to be able to wait until I get home to take this thing off. It's going to bug me the entire ride there, and an hour is a long time when you're annoyed.

Barnabas chuckles, holding out a hand. "Let me see," he says in an amused voice. I grip the bag for a minute, but then hand it over to him and stare in amazement as he raises it to his face. He opens his mouth and, baring his fangs, and then chomps down on the plastic tag, snapping it without any effort at all. Smirking at my dumbfounded look, he hands the bag and the pieces of plastic to me and says, "There you go."

I take them and gaze at the broken pieces before shrugging and tossing them onto the floor. "Thanks," I say, throwing my tote into the back and moving the car into gear.

"You're welcome," he says, nodding his head gallantly. I raise an eyebrow at him, but say nothing else as I drive out of the parking lot and out onto the highway, joining the long line of traffic and beginning the long drive home.

**~DS~DS~DS~**

Willie greets us at the gate when we arrive back at Collinwood. "Good afternoon," he says, nodding to me and then to Barnabas. "Welcome back. Oh, and Miss Tyler," he adds, "You have a visitor."

I frown at him. "I do? Are you sure?"

The man nods enthusiastically. "Yes, ma'am. Said her name was Jalisa Hoffman, but she wouldn't say why she's here." He shrugs. "Something about needing to talk to you."

Still frowning, I nod slowly and say curtly, "Thank you, Willie." He nods his head again and steps back to let us pass.

Barnabas raises an eyebrow at me. "You appear to be quite sought-after, Miss Tyler."

I snort. "Yeah, right. Whoever this 'Jalisa Hoffman' is, she's probably looking for someone else."

I'm sure I imagine it, but I think I hear Barnabas saying quietly, "There is no one like you, Tyler."


	12. Chapter 12

_**CHAPTER TWELVE**_

"Ah, Tyler!" a woman's cheery voice calls out the minute I step foot in the parlor of the mansion. "How nice to see you!"

I raise an eyebrow at the sight of a redhead, clad in Gucci from head to toe. She appears to be in her mid-thirties, and also to be ecstatic to see me. I lift a hand and swivel it from side to side.

"Hey," I say, eyeing her warily. "Do I know you?"

She stops a few steps away from me. "You should," she tells me, frowning. "We met when you still lived in New York. You were in middle school at the time." Jalisa smiles fondly, apparently reminiscing about past events. "Even then, you were so beautiful. And now! You're just drop-dead gorgeous," she says, grandly gesturing to my body. A small purse dangling from her arm swings as she moves.

"Um, thank you." I glance over my shoulder to look at Barnabas, who's still standing by the door watching Jalisa with a peculiar expression on his face, almost like the woman seems familiar to him, but not quite. I frown. He really is an odd man.

"Why are you here?"

Jalisa waves a hand. "Oh, I wanted a change from New York. It's so busy, with all that traffic and all those people!" She shakes her head. "Crazy. No, I wanted a quieter place to be for a while. Maine seemed ideal." She smiles broadly. "Then, I saw 'Collinsport' on the map and did some research, and then, _poof_, here I am!"

I wish she'd _poof _herself back to New York.

"I'm sorry, but I still don't remember who you are," I say honestly, shrugging in a _What can you do? _manner.

Jalisa pouts. "Really? How odd. You don't remember when you were in grade seven, and your class went on a trip to the Museum of National History? I was a tour guide there." She chuckles. "You asked a question about vampires. Something along the lines of, 'Are there any vampire skeletons in here, Ms. Hoffman?' Of course, I had to say no, and I thought for sure you were going to cry, right there in the middle of the museum!"

The images slowly come back to me as I begin remembering that rather embarrassing field trip. My entire class had laughed at me, as did my teacher, Miss Tart. She looked like a tart, too. I frown. I've been trying to forget about that, but thanks to Jalisa, it seems I never will.

"I'd almost forgotten," I say sarcastically. "Thank you."

She winks at me. "But, of course, you know the truth now, don't you?" She nods at Barnabas, and suddenly smiles again, this time with her teeth showing, whereas before she'd always smiled with her mouth closed. I gasp quietly when I see fangs, not unlike Barnabas'. His sharp intake of air behind me doesn't go unnoticed by either me or Jalisa.

"Yes," she says, "I am a vampire, as well." She sighs. "Regrettable thing. If only there were less concrete jungles in New York and more places to bury the bodies." She winks at me, and I feel as though I'm about to pass out.

Barnabas must notice, because he comes up close behind me and places a steady hand on the small of my back. "What business do you have here, Miss Hoffman?" he demands, his voice taking on a low, menacing tone as his fingers trace small circles through the cloth of my T-shirt.

Jalisa smiles a truly frightening smile. "Didn't you hear?" she says, feigning innocence. "I'm here to babysit the kids, while Jennifer goes off to work!"

We stare at her in shock. "Babysit?" Barnabas manages.

"Kids?" I sputter.

Jalisa laughs at our incapabilities of forming a full sentence. "Yes, I'm here to babysit the kiddies!" she says, smirking at me as though to rub it in. I glare at her. "Jennifer called me yesterday, and I hopped on a plane yesterday evening. I just arrived this morning."

"Yeah, well, maybe you can catch a plane back to New York," I suggest, though my tone says it's more than just a suggestion. "Because we 'kiddies' don't need a babysitter. I'm seventeen, and besides, we have Barnabas." I look up at him and he nods enthusiastically.

"Yes, yes they do," he insists, moving his hand so that his fingers and grasp my side and tugs me closer to him protectively.

Jalisa winks at him suggestively. "Perhaps you can share?" she asks sweetly. I've no doubt she wants Barnabas to share more than just my siblings and I.

His fingers tighten. "Never."

If this keeps up, I'm going to have a bruise on my side.

"Jalisa!" my mother's voice suddenly calls, and said woman whirls to greet my mother with outstretched arms.

"Jennifer!" the babysitter cries, and the two women hug as though they're long-lost friends. I watch in disgust.

"You finally arrived," Mom says, pulling back to hold Jalisa at arm's length and study her. She frowns when she sees the Gucci clothing. "Did you bring less... Fashionable clothing?" she asks, struggling to find the right words. "This house is a little dusty at the moment, and Todd tends to go everywhere."

Jalisa seems shocked for a moment, but quickly recovers. "Oh, don't worry about that, duck. I've got it covered."

I raise an eyebrow. Duck? Beside me, Barnabas snorts.

Mom suddenly notices us standing here. "Oh, have you met my daughter, Tyler? And our distant relative, Barnabas."

Jalisa smiles at us. "Yes, I've had the opportunity to meet them. Tyler and I have met before." She winks at me. "Haven't we?"

I glare at her as Mom looks at me in confusion. Jalisa smirks and once again tells the stupid field trip story. Mom chuckles, but has a peculiar expression in her eyes though her lips are smiling as she looks at me. I frown in puzzlement, but before I can think about it more, Mom turns back to Jalisa.

"Perhaps you'd like to meet the other two?" Mom asks, and Jalisa claps her hands together in excitement.

"I'd love to!" she trills, and the two women turn and head for the stairs, chattering all the while.

Barnabas looks down at me with his eyebrows raised. "A most interesting dilemma, Miss Tyler."

I nod, grimacing. It's bad enough having one vampire in the place - but how the heck am I supposed to deal with two?


	13. Chapter 13

_**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**_

I pass the rest of the afternoon in the solitude and silence of my room, sitting with my back against the wall and reading the latest edition of _Teen Vogue _by the abundance of sunlight pouring through the window behind me. Tiny little dust mites float around me and tickle my nose, making me sneeze.

"Bless you," a voice says from the doorway. I glance up and smile at Carrie as she walks in and plops herself down beside me. I close the magazine and turn to her, raising an eyebrow at her scowl.

"What's up, grumpy pants?" I ask her, and her scowl deepens.

"Why the heck would Mom bring a babysitter here?" Carrie says, practically spitting at the word 'babysitter'. "It's not like we're little kids anymore."

"Todd is," I point out. "He's only twelve."

"Old enough," she argues, and sadly, I can't disagree. I was Todd's age when Mom finally agreed to let me stay home alone.

I shrug, feeling helpless. "I don't know. I mean, I'm still here, so I really don't understand why this 'Jalisa' is here," I say, making air quotes around the woman's name. She still gives me chills every time I think about her. Her very presence here in Collinsport is suspicious, as she hasn't seen me since I was in middle school. I frown, trying to remember exactly how the stupid field trip went. Bits and pieces of it come back to me, but the rest is hazy.

Carrie digs her fingers into my arm. "Don't leave," she whispers, and snuggles up closer to me, laying her head on my shoulder. I wrap an arm around her, feeling her trembling. She's terrified, and I can't say that I'm not scared, either.

**~DS~DS~DS~**

Later on, I'm taking a stroll through the mansion, exploring the east wing which is currently still uninhabited. As I'm passing a large set of heavy double doors, I hear voices coming from beside them. The angry tones of the people talking are quickly rising and becoming louder. I creep closer to the door to listen.

"Why are you here?" It's Barnabas, and he sounds exasperated, like he's running out of patience. "Jennifer didn't mention anything to me about needing a nanny to look after her children. They have me, and they do not need you, madam!"

"Maybe you should tell that to Jennifer," I hear Jalisa shoot back in a smug tone. "She's the one who hired me."

Barnabas growls, sending tingles down my spine. "This is still my house, Miss Hoffman. I can still tell you to leave."

I hear Jalisa's stiletto heels click-clacking on the floor before she says in a quieter, suggestive tone, "I'd like to see you try. You know you don't want me to leave. You know you want me to stay. You can't resist me -"

"Enough, woman!" Barnabas roars suddenly, abruptly cutting her off. "I will speak to Jennifer about this immediately. If she does find fault with your presence here, then I will personally pack your bags and send you and your luggage back to Satan, and then may he suckle of your diseased teat."

Barnabas' rather vulgar language makes the blood rush to my face. I clamp a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing aloud and lean closer to the door.

Jalisa remains silent for a moment before she begins moving again. "No one talks like you do anymore, Barnabas. People would find it odd if you began speaking like that out in public." I hear her move closer the door but find myself frozen, unwilling to miss even a syllable of this conversation. Why, I'm not sure. Maybe I'm just desperate enough to get Jalisa Hoffman out of my house to stoop low enough to eavesdropping and try to hear her say something that can get her fired.

"Keep in mind what I said, Barnabas. You can't resist me. And sometime, you'll just have to succumb to your desires." Suddenly, the doors open, and I don't have a chance to move back before one smacks directly into my face.

I cry out and fall back, landing hard on my butt. Jalisa gasps and hurries to crouch beside me, grasping my wrists and trying to pull my hands away from their position on my face.

"Here, honey, let me look."

"Get away from me!" I snap, sounding like I have a nasal congestion. "And I'm not your honey!"

Barnabas moves to kneel on my other side. "Tyler? Are you alright?" His black eyes gaze into mine with concern clearly evident. "Shall I fetch a doctor?"

Jalisa snorts. I glare at her before turning to Barnabas. "No, I'm fine," I tell him, and try to move myself into a sitting position without removing my hands from my nose, which feels like it's on fire. I feel two pairs of hands on my back helping me and I abruptly find myself sitting straight up. A rush of dizziness makes my head spin, and I slowly lay back, moaning.

The male vampire looks at me with worry. "You should see a doctor."

"I'm fine," I say, frowning at him. "I just need an ice pack or something."

"Jalisa? Barnabas? What's all the racket? I -" Mom comes up the stairs with a question halfway out of her mouth but then stops and gasps loudly when she sees me lying on the floor. I hear her footsteps thudding as she runs up behind me, then feel her cool hands gently touching my forehead.

"Tyler, honey, what happened?"

"Jalisa hit me with the door," I say sullenly, trying to keep the note of smugness out of my strained voice. Surely that will get her fired!

Mom turns to the vampire with fury blazing in her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"It was an accident," Jalisa stutters, suddenly sounding close to tears whereas a moment before, she'd been giving Barnabas sarcastic and even lustful glances. I stare at her in shock as she blubbers, "I was coming out of the drawing room with Barnabas, and Tyler was right behind the door. I didn't know she was there and I opened it, and it hit her."

Mom sighs. "Tyler, what have I told you about eavesdropping?" I try to sputter out a response, but Mom shakes her head. "Never mind. We'll discuss this later. Now, let me see your nose."

Tired of fighting everyone, I go limp and allow her to pull my hands off of my face. She and the other two suddenly draw in gasps. "What? What is it?" I wail, trying to bring my hands up to pat my face to search for alien bumps or something, but Barnabas reaches out with lightning speed and grasps my wrists, pinning my hands to the floor on either side of me. "Am I a mutant now? What happened to me?"

"Tyler, honey," Mom begins, and then bites her lip before continuing. "I think you broke your nose."


	14. Chapter 14

_**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**_

The car ride to the hospital is the most annoying drive I've ever taken. I'm sitting in the middle of the backseat, flanked on either side by Carrie and Barnabas. Jalisa sits in the passenger seat, frequently twisting around to "check up on me", she says, but I see her glancing at Barnabas instead of me. Carrie and Barnabas, on the other hand, constantly fuss over me, asking continuously if I'm comfortable, in any pain, or if the ice in the bag I'm holding against my nose is melting. Every time, I answer with a simple 'yes' or 'no', trying not to talk since it makes my nose hurt even more for some reason.

"Would you rather lie down?" Barnabas asks me again, his brows still furrowed together. He's frowning so hard that his eyebrows are almost touching. I find myself wanting to reach out and smooth the lines in his forehead. He doesn't need to worry about me so much, but at the same time, it is nice to have a man care about me.

"I'm fine," I tell him, trying to refrain the urge to say 'yes' and sprawl out with my head in his lap and my feet in Carrie's. Instead, I lean my head against Carrie's shoulder, and she wraps her arm around me in the same manner I did for her back at Collinwood when Jalisa first arrived.

Speaking of the devil... "How's she doing?" Jalisa asks, twisting around again. She doesn't even look at me, but stares straight at Barnabas. This woman has it bad.

"I'm doing fine, thanks," I say, readjusting the bag so that the ice isn't pressing quite so hard against my nose.

"Is she in any pain?" she says, ignoring me completely and still asking Barnabas the questions. Mom frowns, glancing in the rear-view mirror at me and then at Jalisa. I catch her eye and shrug, and she frowns deeper.

Barnabas glances at me. "Are you in any pain, my dear?"

I start to shake my head, but wince and stop. "No."

He gives me a look that says he doubts what I just said, but doesn't press the matter further. He turns back to Jalisa and gives her my response. She nods, finally glancing at me for a second. Her expression seems to be one of triumph, like she's accomplished something great. I narrow my eyes at her, and she immediately morphs her face into a picture of sympathy before quickly turning and facing the front again. I scowl at the back of her head, glaring at the obviously-dyed, fake-looking hair sprouting from her scalp.

Barnabas suddenly reaches over and takes my hand in his, tracing circles onto the back of my hand with his thumb. His hand is like ice, and I shiver. He looks at me with concern.

"Are you cold?" he asks me, bringing his free hand to the buttons on his suit jacket. I look at it longingly, but reluctantly say, "No, I'm fine."

"Nonsense," Barnabas declares, and removes his hand from mine for a minute to unbutton his jacket and drape it around my shoulders. It doesn't give much warmth, since his body doesn't produce heat, but my shivers subside and don't return, even when he takes my hand again. We sit like this for the remainder of the ride to the hospital. I'm sure my face resembles a tomato.

**~DS~DS~DS~**

"Well, Miss," the doctor says about an hour later, "I'm sure you've realized by now your nose is broken."

I grunt in reply, my voice sounding pinched from all the bandages on my face. Mom squeezes my hand gently, a reminder to be polite. Not something I feel like doing, considering the pain I'm in. Why do these stupid doctors feel the need to poke and prod as hard as they can? On top of that, he had to realign my nose. Which means snapping it in place. Which means I cried. Like a baby.

Needless to say, my face is bright red.

The doctor gives me a sympathetic glance. "Painful, I know, but it's the only way to make it heal faster. Now..." He continues on, giving me 'helpful' tips on how to avoid bumping it. He also tells me not to kiss anyone.

"Kissing can possibly cause more damage to the healing process, since your noses bump together a bit while you kiss," he explains, and for some odd reason, I feel a strong sense of disappointment. Guess I won't be kissing Barnabas.

Whoa. Where did _that _come from?

Lost in thought, I don't notice when the doctor stops talking. I come back to Earth to find him staring at me expectantly. I blush and say, "Sorry, what?"

Mom frowns at me, but the doctor merely chuckles and says, "Don't worry about it. Teen girls always find it horrifying when they hear they can't kiss any of the cute guys."

I never thought my face could get any redder than it is now.

**~DS~DS~DS~**

"So," Carrie says as we're on our way home, "You can't kiss for, what, six or seven weeks?"

I glare at her, then wince when we hit a bump. "The doctor said six weeks minimum."

She wiggles her eyebrows. "Was he cute?"

I smack her on the arm as she laughs.


	15. Chapter 15

_**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**_

"How are you feeling, my dear?" Barnabas asks me later. We got home around seven o'clock, and it's now something after nine. I'm lounging on the sofa in the den, reading my _Teen Vogue _magazine and listening to the fire crackle. It may be summer, but inside the old mansion it's chilly.

I glance up and smile at him as he comes to stand beside me. "Not bad," I say, moving my feet back so he can sit down on the end. He does, and then gently lifts my feet and sets them in his lap.

"Are you feeling any pain?" he asks me next, but it's hard for me to come up with an answer while he's massaging my toes like that. He moves on to the soles of my feet, and I bite my lip to keep from humming in pleasure. It feels _heavenly_.

"No," I murmur, watching as his pale, skillful hands dance over my feet. "None at all."

Barnabas smiles over at me, and for the first time I don't feel disgusted or frightened at the site of his fangs. Instead, I get a fluttery, tingling sensation in my stomach, and my heart starts pounding. I smile back at him, looking down bashfully at my magazine without really seeing it, and glance back up again to see him suddenly scooching himself down the sofa, inch by inch, and carrying my legs on his lap as he moves. Our eyes are locked on to each others' as he slowly leans towards my face.

"Tyler!"

I gasp and lean away from Barnabas, the spell now broken. He looks disappointed, but moves with lightning speed away from me and positions himself on the end of the sofa where he originally started.

Carrie appears in the doorway a split second after he does. "Tyler, Mom's got Pizza Twice!"

"Say what?" I cry, shooting up and off of the sofa. My gym teacher would be proud.

She nods enthusiastically. "Yup! It's out here in the parlor." She disappears as suddenly as she arrived.

I turn to Barnabas, blushing suddenly. "Um... Do you want some pizza?" I ask him quietly, unable to meet his gaze.

He clears his throat and adjusts his cravat. "Uh, no, thank you. I... Do not... Eat." He shifts uncomfortably, and I wince when I remember that he can only drink blood. I'm curious about what human food would do to him, but I say nothing about the matter. I only nod and stand quickly, walking as fast as I can out of the den, eager to get away from him and the feelings he's suddenly stirring in me.

**~DS~DS~DS~**

Around eleven o'clock, I'm just pulling the tank top over my head when I hear a knock on my bedroom door. "Yeah?" I call out, adjusting the top and tugging the plaid shorts down a little more.

"May I come in?" Barnabas' voice replies, and I hesitate for a moment before calling back to give my consent. The door opens slowly and Barnabas pokes his head in, and I laugh aloud when I see his eyes are closed.

"You can open your eyes, you know," I say, chuckling. Barnabas does so, and immediately runs his eyes up and down my body. I blush, but stand firmly. I have nothing to be ashamed of.

"Ready for bed, my dear?" he asks, coming to stand just inside the doorway. He reaches up to loosen his cravat as he speaks. My eyes are drawn to his neck, where pale skin is now exposed. I swallow hard and force myself to turn back to the nightstand beside my bed, removing my watch and setting it gently on the top of the stand.

"Yeah."

Barnabas nods, with a very serious expression. He seems to be pondering something, before quietly asking, "May I kiss you goodnight?"

I'm taken aback by his request, shocked that he would ask such a thing. I bite my lip, debating in my mind whether or not I should consent. Then I remember my nose.

"Um... You can..." I begin, and Barnabas looks truly delighted at the idea. He walks eagerly towards me, his black eyes shining. When he's only a few inches away from me, I reluctantly point to my cheek.

"You have to kiss me here, though," I tell him. His happy expression turns crestfallen, and I curse my broken nose. "Doctor's orders."

He nods, swallowing hard and seeming to force himself to nod. "Ah, yes, of... Of course." Swallowing again, he leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to my cheek. His lips are cool, but I don't mind at all. I love the feeling of them on my skin.

Barnabas pulls back after a moment of letting his lips remain on my cheek. "Good night, my Tyler," he whispers, and before I can blink, he's out of my room and gone, closing the door gently behind him.

In a daze, I turn off my phone, which I had been using as a light, and crawl into bed, wrapping the blankets around my body like a cocoon.

I lay awake for a long time before I can finally fall asleep, still reliving Barnabas' kiss.


	16. Chapter 16

_**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**_

The next few days pass by quickly, and noisily. The mansion is flooded for three days straight by buff men in overalls, coming in to install appliances and electricity. I'm ecstatic when we get a shower installed.

"Dibs," I tell Carrie as we stand in our new bathroom examining the walk-in shower and the beautiful, huge tub. "I'm going first."

She pouts. "No fair."

I laugh and walk out, feeling rejuvenated and ready to explore the rest of the done-over mansion.

The hallways are now proudly bearing little lamps on either side, which will save me from having to use my phone as a flashlight when I walk to my room at night. The drawing room features a large chandelier which matches the one in the parlor, and miscellaneous lamps are all over the place. The layer of dust that had recently covered everything is now gone, thanks to the cleaning service Mom called. After three days of work, the mansion looks brand-new.

On my little exploration, I bump into Barnabas, who's just coming out of the drawing room. "Oh, Miss Tyler," he says, bowing. I frown. Guess we're back to being formal and proper. "Excuse me. I did not mean to so rudely walk into you."

I roll my eyes. "Barnabas, chill. You didn't walk into me, and what's with calling me 'Miss' again?"

He looks startled, but quickly recovers and says, "I was just trying to be polite."

Chuckling, I smile at him and walk over to his side, tucking my arm through his. "Well, your manners are certainly appreciated," I tell him as we begin to slowly walk forward down the hallway, "But you don't need to be so formal around me. Just plain old 'Tyler' will do."

Barnabas nods, smiling down at me. "Very well then, Tyler."

We walk down the hallway and when we get to the stairs, I pause and detach my arm from his. I try to lift myself up onto the banister, but I'm too short. I gaze pleadingly over at Barnabas. "Can you help me?"

He looks confused. "What are you doing?"

"I want to slide down the banister," I tell him, grinning. Barnabas frowns at me.

"That is not very becoming of a lady, Tyler," he says in a warning voice. I roll my eyes and try to hop up onto the rail again.

"Fine," I huff, panting from my efforts. Who knew this thing was so high up? "I can do it alone."

He sighs, then walks over to me and gently but firmly grips my waist and lifts me up so that I'm seated on the banister. "Is this what you wanted?" he asks, and I shiver as his breath tickles my cheek.

"Yes," I whisper, as our gazes lock together. Barnabas' black eyes don't move away from my own green orbs for even an instant as he slowly leans towards me. Our lips get closer and closer together until they finally touch.

Somewhere in the distance, I hear Carrie's voice calling my name, but I ignore her and press my lips against Barnabas' with even more fervor. He responds to it, kissing me passionately and stealing my breath away when he slips his tongue into my mouth.

"Tyler, can you -" Carrie starts to say as she comes around the corner, but then cuts herself off abruptly. "Oh," she says, and I reluctantly break away from Barnabas and give him a small smile. He returns it, lifting one hand from my waist to gently brush his finger against my cheek.

"I will come find you later," he whispers, and I shiver again. He presses one last kiss against my swollen lips and then lets go of me. Nodding once at Carrie, he says, "Ladies." Then he turns and goes down the stairs, disappearing into the den.

I watch him go, unconsciously pressing my fingers to my lips. They're very swollen from the pressure of Barnabas' lips, and I can feel my face burning.

"WHAT was THAT?" Carrie shrieks, turning to stare at me in shock. I blush even more, if possible, and find myself unable to meet her gaze.

"What?" I ask, shifting uncomfortably and gripping the banister to keep from sliding down. Ooo. Slippery.

Carrie waves her arms, sputtering. "The - the - kiss!" she finally stammers, practically spitting out the word 'kiss' like it burns her tongue to say it. I roll my eyes and raise an eyebrow at her.

"I'm seventeen," I tell her, oozing 'duh'. "I'm old enough to kiss a guy."

"But he's a vampire!"

A maid vacuuming nearby looks over in shock and confusion, and I smile at her reassuringly.

"Don't mind her, she's nuts," I say sweetly. The maid lifts an eyebrow, then shrugs and turns back to her vacuum. She probably has to deal with crazy clients all the time. Carrie glares at me, but lowers her voice and moves nearer to me before she speaks again.

"Tyler, you just kissed a vampire," she says, carefully pronouncing each word to make positively sure I hear her. I nod slowly, deciding to humor her.

"Yeah, and?"

Carrie looks at me closely, biting her lip. "Well... Won't you turn into one or something?"

I can't help it; I burst out laughing. This time the maid doesn't even look up. Carrie stares at me like I've grown three heads.

"Dude," I finally say once I'm calmed down enough, "Haven't you learned anything from the _Twilight _books? You only become a vampire if you're bit by one," I say proudly. Not bad for someone who's never even read the novels.

"Oh, yeah." She nods, then suddenly goes wide-eyed again and peers at my neck closely. "He didn't try to give you a hickey, did he?"

I panic. Oh God, what if he did? What if his teeth accidentally punctured my skin? Frantically, I try to push off the banister, but I only succeed in making myself slide to the left, and once I've started moving, I can't stop.

"Caaaaarrrrriiiieeeeeee!" I scream as I ride the railing like a roller coaster till finally it comes to the bottom, and I quickly hop off before I slam into the stone snake coiled around the post. My knees are wobbly and immediately give out, and I sink to the floor.

"Tyler!" Carrie shrieks. I groan and close my eyes. If she keeps this up, I'm going to have a busted eardrum.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" She kneels down beside me and gently feels my arms and legs. "Did you break anything?" She falters. "Uh... Besides your nose?"

I glare at her and sit up. "I'm fine."

Carrie gives me a small smile. "Hey, look at it this way. At least you ended up not having any puncture marks on your skin."

"But I could have died by falling off the banister!"

She grins evilly. "We always could have gotten Barnabas to bring you back to life." She wiggles her eyebrows. "I'm sure it's nothing you wouldn't enjoy." She runs off before I can hit her, and leaves me sitting on the floor in the parlor like an idiot. People glance up from their jobs and smirk at me as I huff angrily and push myself to my feet.

Oh, I am so getting you for this, Carrie.


	17. Chapter 17

_**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**_

I wake up the next morning to the sound of Carrie blasting Justin Bieber across the hall. I groan and roll over, burying my head under the pillows trying to muffle it, but to no avail. Pushing the blankets back, I scowl and lift my head from beneath the pillows. "Carrie!" I yell, trying to raise my voice to be heard over the music. "Turn it down!"

"Can't hear you!" her voice sings back to me.

I glare at my closed bedroom door. "Brat," I mutter, sliding out from beneath the covers and placing my bare feet on the floor. I shiver and hurry over to my closet, opening the doors to reveal a large, open space, which is full of my jeans and sweaters, and below that, six small drawers at the bottom. I open them one by one until I find the one containing my socks and quickly pull a pair on.

Stripping out of my shorts and tank top, I shimmy into a pair of ripped jeans and a tight tee, which is autographed by Cher Lloyd, one of my all-time favorite singers. I brush my hair and pull it up into an almost irritatingly high ponytail before sashaying proudly out the door and down the hall.

The smell of chocolate chip pancakes greets my nose as I descend the stairs. I smirk. Mom must be trying out the new stove.

I walk into the parlor and follow my nose into a large room beside the den, where I find a large table set up with at least ten chairs surrounding it. Barnabas sits at the head of the table, at the far end staring at me as I walk in. His eyes travel down the length of my body, making me smirk proudly. His eyes linger on my jeans, especially the jagged holes exposing skin.

"My dear Tyler... Whatever are you wearing?" he says, almost reverently. Mom glances up from where she's toiling over the stove, looks over my outfit, and rolls her eyes before returning to her pancakes.

"Back on a Cher Lloyd rampage again, Ty?" she asks, sounding bored. I pout and walk over to slide into one of the large chairs, directly to Barnabas' right.

"Like I ever stopped," I say, fiddling with a loose string on my T-shirt. Barnabas watches my every move, until I finally have enough and place my palms flat on the table.

"See something you like?" I ask him, looking straight into his eyes even though it makes my heart speed up.

He leans back in his chair, resting his hands on the arms of his chair, mimicking my stance though more at ease than I am. "Maybe I do," he says, voice like silk.

Mom eyes us, giving Barnabas a look that says _Watch it _before coming over and setting two plates in front of us. "Dig in, kiddies," she says, tugging gently on my ponytail before sliding into a seat next to me.

I'm all too happy to oblige. I love chocolate chip pancakes.

Barnabas, on the other hand, seems more reluctant to eat his breakfast, much less touch the silverware. He pokes the fork, then quickly draws his hand back as though he's afraid it'll bite him or something. I watch as he repeats this for a few minutes before finally asking, "Barnabas... What the heck are you doing?"

He looks up and glances at my clothes again before answering. "I have noticed that the silverware is not pure silver."

Mom snorts. "Hardly. We'd never be able to afford it." She takes a sip of juice, eyeing Barnabas over the top of the glass. "How could you tell?"

"Because if this fork had been pure silver," he says, picking up the utensil and studying it thoughtfully, "My hand would have burst into flames upon the slightest contact."

I turn to look at Mom in disbelief. "Is he for real?"

"Is who for real?" Todd asks, coming into the kitchen. Mom stands and goes to the stove to get a plate for him as he sits down across from me. "Tyler? Because I seriously doubt it."

I kick him under the table.

He yelps. "Jeez!" Todd reaches down to rub his shin, glaring at me. "What did I ever do to you?"

I return the look, stabbing a piece of pancake angrily and shoving it into my mouth. "A lot," I mutter with my mouth full.

"Tyler," Mom scolds me. "Manners."

I swallow. "Sorry."

Barnabas chuckles, and I look over at him. He almost seems embarrassed as he sets the fork down and pushes his plate away from him in an almost imperceptible manner. "Excuse me," he says, rising, "But I believe I will retire to my room." With a bow, he leaves us.

We watch him go in silence, but Todd immediately starts chattering again about some new game he's downloaded. I ignore him for the most part, confused as to why Barnabas wouldn't touch his food. I look thoughtfully at the plate, where two pancakes lay undisturbed.

Mom gently nudges me with her elbow. "Maybe you should go talk to him."

"Why me?" I ask her, widening my eyes innocently.

She gives me a meaningful look. "Because I saw what happened upstairs yesterday."

Heat rises to my cheeks as I remember Barnabas kissing me as I sat on the banister. I didn't know Mom had seen us. It's bad enough Carrie did. I shudder. What if Todd did?

"What?" Todd asks loudly, cutting into his pancake like it owes him money. "What happened yesterday?"

"None of your concern, Todd," Mom says absently, still staring at me. I sigh, popping the last piece of pancake into my mouth and bringing my dishes over to the sink. Setting them gently inside, I take a last sip of juice before pouring the rest down the drain and setting the glass in the sink too.

"Well, I'm off," I say to Mom, gently squeezing her shoulder. "Wish me luck."

For all I know, I could very well need all the luck I can get. After all... I am going to be entering a vampire's room.


	18. Chapter 18

_**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**_

I fiddle nervously with my shirttails as I walk slowly up the stairs. Barnabas' room is somewhere off to the right, enclosed in the dark hallway. I frown when I enter the corridor. There are no lights on in this part of the mansion, though there are many installed. Barnabas must really like the dark.

_Vampire_, my mind whispers. I shiver and try to block out the silky voice that refuses to leave me alone.

I pass the drawing room, and another large set of oak doors before coming to a smaller set, with the legendary C engraved onto the wood. This must be Barnabas' room. I lean in and press my ear to the door, listening for any sounds coming from inside. A gentle snoring greets me.

Slapping a hand over my mouth to stifle my chuckles, I don't bother knocking before I open one of the doors and step into the dark room. The drapes are closed, blocking out the sunlight, and the large lamps on either side of his bed are turned off. I peer closely at the bed. He's not even in it.

A loud snort makes me jump in surprise, and I whirl around, trying to find the culprit. My eyes finally land on an upside-down Barnabas, sleeping nestled against the drapes hanging from the tall bedframe.

I stare at him, dumbfounded. He's sleeping just like a bat!

Snickering, I take my phone out of my pocket and tap on the camera app, then hold up the phone to capture Barnabas in a picture. I tap the small camera icon and the screen flashes a bit as it takes the picture. Bringing up the camera roll, I tap on the image I've just taken and find myself frowning in puzzlement. Barnabas is nowhere to be seen in the picture. It is dark, obviously, but I can't even see Barnabas' form anywhere.

I'm too focused on the strange image to notice that the snoring has stopped. A low, husky voice behind me suddenly says, "Yes. I don't show up in pictures."

I gasp and spin around to see Barnabas staring at me, deadpan. "Much like I don't show up in mirrors," he adds, placing his hands behind his back. Involuntarily, I scan him from head to toe. He's wearing only a silky pair of black pants, somewhat like modern pajama pants, and a small robe which is tied loosely at his waist. A small sliver of his pale chest is exposed, and I swallow hard when I find that it's painfully obvious he doesn't have a shirt on.

"Oh," is all I can say, and immediately I want to kick myself for being so stupid. I should never have sneaked into his room in the first place.

I start backing up towards the door. "I'll just, uh..."

With inhuman speed, Barnabas is standing in front of the door, blocking my only way out of the room. Well, there's always the window, but, unfortunately, I lack the ability to fly. A pity, really.

"What are you doing in my room, Tyler?" Barnabas asks me, his voice still low and almost menacing, except for the fact that it's not really scaring me. Rather, it's giving me shivers... and a delightful feeling in my abdomen.

"I, uh..." I stutter, eyes darting from side to side, trying to look anywhere but at him, "I just... Wanted to see if you were okay."

At his raised eyebrow, I hurriedly say, "Well... You didn't eat breakfast, and I just wanted to see if you were feeling alright."

His eyebrow goes even higher, almost disappearing under his stiffly curled bangs. "Tyler," he says, sounding like an exasperated father, "I do not eat. You should know that by now."

I wince. He's right, of course. I really should know that by now. After all, he's been here for almost a week now.

"Oh, yeah." I watch him warily as he moves away from the door and starts walking slowly towards me, almost stalking me, much like he did that fateful day in the den when Mom and I first learned he was a vampire.

"Is there anything else?" he asks. His voice has now taken on a more suggestive tone, and I scowl at him.

"No," I say harshly, moving towards the door again now that he's no longer blocking it. "Nothing else. Go back to sleep, Mr. Collins."

Barnabas looks hurt that I'm not using his Christian name, but I ignore the puppy dog look and yank open the door, hurrying out.

"Oof!" a woman grunts when I suddenly slam into her. I hiss in pain and gently rub my nose, which is still covered in the doctor's bandages. I lean against the wall while I wait for my balance to right itself and stare down in surprise at the redhead lying on the floor.

"Jalisa?" I say in a pinched voice. I frown and remove my fingers from my nose. "What are you doing here?"

The babysitter scowls and sits up, brushing herself off. Ooo. That Gucci pantsuit is sure to collect dust. I smirk as I watch her.

"I was just -" she starts, but is cut off by Barnabas' voice.

"What was that infernal bang?" he demands, coming out of his room. I blush deeply when I see his robe is open, exposing his chest to the world. I'm horrified to find myself so fascinated by him, but I can't stop staring. I examine everything, from his dark nipples to the lines and curves outlining muscles in his abdomen and chest.

"Tyler pushed me," Jalisa blurts, seemingly unaffected by the extremely hot man beside me. Barnabas turns to look at me, and I immediately drag my eyes away from his chest to meet his gaze. His slight smirk does not escape me, and I blush even deeper. I can't believe he saw me staring.

"Is this true, Tyler?" he asks me, and I glare at him.

"No," I say, thoroughly insulted. "I was coming out, and the door hit Jalisa by mistake. It seems she was eavesdropping." I glare at the redhead as I speak the last few words of my sentence.

She gives me a wounded look. "Really, Tyler, would I do a thing like that?" Jalisa suddenly smirks evilly. "Eavesdropping is more of your type thing, remember?"

I scowl at her and reach up to rub my nose. That memory is all too fresh in my mind.

Barnabas sighs, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. I feel bad for him. It must be difficult to have to deal with two fighting females.

"Tyler, we will discuss this later," he finally says to me. "And Miss Hoffman," he adds, turning to the babysitter, "You and I will have a little discussion with Miss Jennifer."

Jalisa nods and turns to go, but Barnabas reaches out and grabs her arm.

"_Now_."

I have the sudden urge to grab some popcorn and a pair of 3D glasses.


	19. Chapter 19

_**CHAPTER NINETEEN**_

"I simply don't know what to say," Mom says a few minutes later, as we sit in a room just down the hallway from Barnabas' room, which she's claimed as her study. "Eavesdropping, broken noses..." She shakes her head. "Really, people. What is the matter with you all?"

Barnabas is standing stiffly in front of the door, with his arms folded behind his back. Jalisa is sitting in front of my mom's desk with her legs crossed and one stiletto dangling from her toe cleavage. I, personally, am scooching my chair away from the redhead's, inch by scraping inch.

"Tyler!" Mom suddenly snaps. I immediately stop moving. "Would you please stop moving that chair? It's giving me a headache." She rubs her temples and glares at me. I give her an apologetic look.

"Sorry."

Mom sighs, turning back to Jalisa. "What were you doing outside of Barnabas room?"

"I was just coming to talk to Barnabas," Jalisa says, pouting a bit. I roll my eyes at her expression. Her bottom lip is stuck out and trembling a bit, like a child's would while they were getting a scolding. I scowl and turn away from her. She makes me sick.

"About what?" Bless Mom and her sleuthing questions! We might just get to fire Jalisa if she gives the wrong answer. The thought of waving goodbye to the babysitter is almost enough to bring a smile to my face.

"Um..." Jalisa bites her lip nervously.

"Well?"

"The mortgage," Jalisa suddenly blurts. We all look at her with raised eyebrows, and even Barnabas' usually stone-cold face has an expression of confusion and slight amusement.

"The mortgage?" Mom says dubiously. She gives the redhead a dubious look. "Why would you need to know about the mortgage?"

Jalisa tries out a sweet smile on Mom. "Well, you know. I was just curious about how much it would cost for such a large house," she says, widening her eyes dramatically.

Mom leans back in her chair, resting her hands palms down on the desk. "Miss Hoffman, I must say that eavesdropping and lies are things that I simply will not allow in my house. I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave."

The woman's jaw drops as she stares at Mom in shock while I'm sitting there doing a little happy dance in my seat. "You can't be serious?" she finally gasps. "I need the money, Jennifer! I need this job!"

"Then you should have thought of that before you eavesdropped on my daughter and Barnabas," Mom says firmly, "And then lied to me. Good day, Miss Hoffman." She points to the door, and Barnabas steps back and opens it courteously.

Jalisa whips around to glare at me, baring her fangs at me as her eyes flash. "This is all your fault, Tyler," she hisses at me, digging her fingers into the arms of her chair. "Your! Fault!" She suddenly stands and strides over to the door, then abruptly stops and turns back to face me. "This isn't over yet, Tyler Stoddard," Jalisa says in a dark, warning tone. Then she turns and disappears.

We sit in silence, listening to Jalisa's heels stabbing the floor as she stalks down to her room. Doors slam as she empties her closet, then her dresser and nightstand. The noises reach us all the way down the hallway. A few minutes later, we hear the front door slam, and then silence takes over the mansion once more.

I'm the first one to break the silence. "_Yeeeessssssss_!" I shout, jumping up out of my chair and clapping my hands excitedly. "She's gone! She's gone!"

I chant, clapping my hands and stepping inside in a sort of dance much like the Native celebrations. Barnabas watches in amusement, lips twitching as he fights back a smile. Mom sighs and rubs her eyes.

"Tyler," she says wearily. I reluctantly stop dancing and turn to face her, shifting from foot to foot with the sudden urge to move and celebrate. I can't believe she's gone!

"I still have to decide how to punish you."

The words are like bricks hitting me in the gut. "Why me?" I say, sinking like a stone into the chair and staring at my mother.

She looks at me, and I see the dark shadows under her eyes. "You did still eavesdrop," she reminds me. I snort.

"Yeah. And then I got my nose broken in return," I say, pointing to my bandaged nose. Mom nods, eyes taking on a sympathetic look.

"True." She chews her lip for a while before speaking again.

"How about this," she begins, and I brace myself. "You help me with chores, meals, and whatnot for a month, and in return..."

A month? That's not so bad.

"In return, I'll pay your phone bill for this month."

I squeal, jumping up out of the seat and running over to hug my mother. She laughs, patting my back. "Now, go get changed!"

I stand back, looking at her in confusion. "Why?"

Mom winks at me. "We're having company over for supper." She pats me on the bum and makes a 'shoo' gesture.

The last time company came, they got fired. This should be interesting.


	20. Chapter 20

_**CHAPTER TWENTY**_

Several minutes later, I'm just finishing zipping up my brand-new True Religion jeans when there's a knock at my door. I pause, debating whether or not to answer it since I'm standing in only a pair of jeans and my bra. My zebra print, long-sleeved shirt and the white tank top are lying on my bed, and I don't feel like rushing to pull them on and risk ripping the material.

"Who is it?"

"Me," Carrie calls back, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I walk over and open the door.

"Jeez, Tyler!" she immediately yelps, covering her eyes. "Put some clothes on!"

I roll my eyes, placing one hand on my hip. "What do you need?"

Carrie peeks through her fingers. "I was going to ask you if I could borrow a tank top," she says, "But I'm starting to think you'll need it instead."

Snorting, I pull the door open wider and wave her in. "Please, girl," I say as she walks in and I close the door before going over to my closet. "You know I have at least seven tank tops." It's true. I do have at least seven - one in red, two in blue (one sky blue, one navy), one in purple, one in black, one in white, and one in pink. One never knows one will need a tank top to complete an outfit.

"What color do you need?" I ask, opening my closet doors and examining my selection. I've long since emptied my suitcase, which is now propped against the wall, directly beneath a Johnny Depp poster.

Carrie chews her lip thoughtfully. "I'm not sure, actually. I was thinking maybe my purple shrug, with a white short-sleeved V-neck, and maybe a pair of black capris." After a moment of thought, she adds, "And my black-and-white heels. You know, the ones with the open toes."

I nod as I picture the outfit in my mind. "But you know what Mom says about V-necks."

She pouts. "Yeah, I know. So I figured I'd ask you if I could borrow one of your tank tops."

"Sure." I shift through the clothes for a minute before I find what I'm looking for and pull out the purple tank top. "Here. Try this one. If it doesn't look right, come back and we'll figure something out."

"Thanks." Carrie takes the top from me and pauses, looking from my jeans to the shirts on my bed. "You sure jeans are going to be okay for the occasion?"

I walk over to my bed and pull on the tank top. "Oh, by the way, what is the occasion? Everyone seems to think it's better to leave me out of the matter, but make me come to dinner."

"Mom's boss is coming here for supper."

I look up from struggling to get my arm under the thin strap. "Say what?"

Carrie shrugs. "That's what she told me. Anyways, I'm gonna go try this on." She disappears before I can ask anything else, and I'm left frowning and staring down at my disoriented shirt in confusion. Why would her boss be coming here? Unless, of course, it's a male, and he's interested in her romantically.

I almost gag at the thought. If Mom wants to be involved with her boss that's fine, but leave us out of it! I definitely don't need to know all the details of her love life. Ick.

I finally sort out the tank top and move on to the zebra print shirt, quickly shimmying into that and sliding my feet into the stilettos. Pulling my hair out of the high ponytail, I shake my head to let it loose around my shoulders before I finally glance up and immediately freeze.

Barnabas is in the doorway, staring at me with his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. I stare back at him in shock, wondering how on earth Carrie forgot to close the door.

"I am so sorry, Tyler -" Barnabas begins to stammer out, looking away and blinking furiously. "I had no idea, I -"

"It's fine," I say, blushing deeply. I can't believe he just saw me get dressed!

Barnabas turns around. "I'll, uh, be downstairs in the dining room if you need me," he says over his shoulder before walking away quickly.

I walk over to the door like a zombie and close it gently, leaning against it and wondering what the heck just happened.

**~DS~DS~DS~**

"This is very good, Ms. Stoddard," the man across from me says later as we're gathered around the large table in the kitchen, eating vegetable stew. Go, Mom! Impress that boss with soup!

Mom blushes and smiles shyly. "Thank you, Mr. Evans. It's nothing special, really. Just an old recipe." She chuckles and lifts one shoulder in an elegant shrug. Her Louis Vuitton pantsuit - which I didn't even know she had - ripples with her movements, emphasizing every move she makes and giving her a sense of class and charm.

Mr. Evans smiles widely at her. "It's delicious, Jennifer. Thank you for having me."

I raise an eyebrow. Oh, so now we're on a first name basis? That was quick.

Beside me, Carrie shifts in her seat, and I glance over at her to see she's struggling to suppress her laughter. I gently elbow her, trying to get her to stop. If she doesn't, we're going to be known as Giggles 1 and Giggles 2.

Barnabas, who for some odd reason is sitting at the other end of the table, clears his throat and leans forward. "You say that you run a large business, Mr. Evans?"

The man nods and smiles politely at Barnabas, though it's obvious the two men feel some sort of manly hatred towards each other. I shake my head. Men. I'll never understand them.

"Yes," Mr. Evans says. "I do. I run the Collinsport Sports Wear, which sells athletic gear for both men and women."

Barnabas nods, seemingly interested in what the man is saying, and I go back to my food. The contents of my bowl are actually more intriguing than whatever our guest is saying. I hate sports.

"The Collins family also runs a business," Barnabas says, and I perk up at this statement. They do?

"Oh?" Mr. Evans replies, raising an eyebrow in an almost cocky manner. "Pray tell, what business is this?"

"The Collins Cannery Company," says Barnabas, equally haughty. "We sell seafood."

Mr. Evans snorts. "That's been out of business for almost twenty years." He takes a sip of water. "Unlikely to change any time soon."

I frown, peering down at my bowl. Collins Cannery Company? Seafood? I'm way beyond lost.

"Oh," Barnabas says, sounding surprised and disappointed. He gives Mr. Evans one last, menacing look and remains silent for the rest of the meal.

"So, Tyler," Mom's boss suddenly says, turning to me, "I hear you're going into grade twelve."

I nod, smiling at him politely. "Yes."

He grins broadly. "Ah, the final year of high school. Senior year's always the biggest. Brings back a lot of memories for me."

Probably memories of your hippie friends.

"Nervous?"

I snort. "About?"

He seems taken aback. Looks good on him, too. "Well, you're starting a new school. I assumed you'd be nervous."

Rolling my eyes, I tell him, "This is Collinsport. Small town, small school. Nothing to be worried about." Pausing, I think for a moment, then add, "Except maybe being surrounded by the weirdos in this place every day."

Carrie bursts out laughing, and even Barnabas cracks a grin. Mr. Evans looks absolutely horrified, as does Mom. "Tyler!" she gasps, dabbing at her lips with her napkin. "Apologize!"

I raise an eyebrow. "For what? The insult wasn't directed at him."

Mom glares at me. "He is from this town, and therefore this would insult him. Apologize. Now."

From her tone, I know she means business, and I really need her to pay my cell phone bill this month, so I drop my gaze to my lap and mutter to Mr. Evans, "Sorry, Sir." I figure adding 'Sir' can't help.

He smiles at me kindly. "Not to worry. There are some... Ah, _different _people in this town." He glances pointedly at Barnabas, and I find myself clenching my fists. Barnabas may be different, but not in a bad way.

Carrie touches my arm gently. "Um, Tyler?" she says quietly. "If you're done eating -" she glances at my empty bowl "- can I talk to you for a minute?"

I nod. "Sure. Excuse us," I add, nodding to the others before rising and bringing my bowl over to the sink. Carrie follows me and does the same, before we both leave the kitchen and walk out into the parlor.

I pause, waiting for Carrie to speak, but instead, she continues walking and goes into the den. Frowning, I follow her, wondering what she would want to talk to me about. Whatever it is, it can't be too serious. I hope.

Unless she knows something I don't.


	21. Chapter 21

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**_

Once we're both standing inside the den, Carrie closes the doors and turns to me with a serious expression. Her lips are pressed together in a thin line, and her eyebrows are drawn together in a frown. "Did you notice anything odd about Mr. Evans?"

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Um, other than the fact that he's, like, totally flirting with Mom and touched her knee under the table?" I shake my head. "Nothing."

Carrie takes a deep breath. "The backs of his hands are really hairy."

"So?"

"And his ankles are really hairy, too."

"Carolyn Stoddard, were you checking this guy out?" I ask her in disbelief, placing my hands on my hips.

Carrie scowls at me. "No! My point is, he's way too hairy for a normal guy. He looks like he hasn't shaved in days, yet he specifically said he did before he came over here."

I frown, remembering the man's words. "Yeah, he said he 'groomed' himself, didn't he?" I furrow my eyebrows together. "Who talks like that? You don't go to someone's house and tell them you groomed yourself."

"Exactly," Carrie says, nodding. "So, do you get my drift now?"

Shaking my head, I say, "Not really. Should I?"

Sighing, Carrie finally says, "I think Mr. Evans is a werewolf."

I can't help it; I burst out laughing. "Please, Carrie!" I gasp, clutching my sides. "Don't make me laugh! Seriously, don't make me laugh," I quickly add when I almost lose my balance. Stilettos aren't made for all-out comedies. "It could prove to be fatal."

She scowls. "What is so unbelievable, Tyler?" she demands. "We're living in a house with a vampire, who you _kissed_, and our babysitter was a vampire!"

"She got fired," I point out. Carrie waves my comment away.

"Why is it so surprising that Mr. Evans could be a werewolf? We deal with supernatural creatures practically every day."

She's right, of course. We do have a habit of attracting rather strange beings. Plus, it could very well explain why Mr. Evans and Barnabas were acting so weird during the meal.

"Did you notice how the two men seemed to be, like, really mad at each other for something?" I ask, thinking back to how the two seemed to be trying to out-do each other. "It's like they were in a contest or something."

Carrie nods empathetically. "Yeah, I did notice! And I read that vampires and werewolves hate each other -"

I interrupt her. "And, just where did you read that?"

She blushes. "_Twilight_," she admits.

I snort. I'm not surprised. Carrie thinks that everything Stephanie Meyer writes is as good as the Bible.

"But do you think it's possible?" Carrie asks me, biting her lip. With her blue eyes wide like that, she looks so young and frightened and innocent, that I feel the urge to protect her.

"It might be," I say, sighing. "But even if it is, and he is a werewolf, we still have Barnabas to protect us."

Carrie cracks a smile. "True."

I put my arm around her, and we walk in stride out of the den and back to the kitchen, where we take our seats and act like nothing happened.

I keep a very close eye on Mr. Evans, and notice everything Carrie told me about - the excess hair that normal men don't have. When he smiles, I notice his teeth are sharper than they need to be. Or at least, sharper than a normal man's.

Mr. Evans notices me watching and stares at me, baring his teeth in a truly frightening grin. I narrow my eyes at him and he smiles wider, and I feel Carrie suddenly shiver. I tighten my grip on her shoulder, holding her closer to me, trying to do whatever I can to protect my sister from this new threat.

I just hope Mom doesn't plan on having him over very often. He might get tired of soup and just decide to have one of us for supper.


	22. Chapter 22

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**_

Mr. Evans finally leaves around ten o'clock, and I breathe a sigh of relief when the front door closes, leaning back in my seat and closing my eyes. I feel a hand on my left shoulder, and crack open one eye to see Mom bending over me with a concerned look.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" she asks, resting her cool palm on my forehead. I shiver at how cold her hand feels against my skin. I haven't realized until now just how warm I really am.

"Yeah," I say, closing my eyes again. "I'm fine."

"I take it you don't like my new boss?"

Barnabas growls quietly from the other end of the table, and I wince. "Um... Not really," I admit, speaking softly. I don't want to hurt her feelings, but at the same time, I really don't like the guy. He's creepy.

Mom sighs, running her hand carefully over my hair, which is piled atop my head in a Japanese-style bun. "Give him time," she says, gently tapping one of the chopsticks I'd placed in my hair for fun. "You'll grow to like him."

I say nothing.

"Mom," Carrie suddenly begins, "Do you believe in werewolves?"

My eyes pop open and I abruptly sit up, turning my head to stare at Carrie with wide eyes. She looks over and meets my gaze, biting her lip. I subtly shake my head. _We can't tell Mom about Mr. Evans being a werewolf_, I try to tell her with my eyes. _She'll never believe us._

To my relief, Mom chuckles at Carrie's question. Moving over to the sink to begin running the water to clean the dishes, she replies, "I'm not sure, sweetie. Why?"

I gently - _very _gently - tap Carrie's foot with my heel. She winces slightly and glares at me, but takes the hint and reluctantly says, "Just wondering. Because, you know, of the vampire living with us and stuff."

Todd, who's sitting across from Carrie and therefore previously beside Mr. Evans, chokes on the bite of Aero bar he's eating and starts coughing. Mom rushes over to him and pats him on the back. If looks could kill, Carrie would be six feet under.

"What?" Todd rasps when he's finally able to breathe again. He takes a sip of water before continuing. "Who's a vampire?"

Mom's expression is enough to keep me quiet, but Carrie ignores her and tells Todd, "Barnabas is."

The twelve-year-old whips his head around to stare at the man sitting at the other end of the table. For a minute, the two males watch one another, their faces showing caution and amazement.

Finally, after a tense moment of silence, Todd speaks. "That's so cool," he says to Barnabas, staring at the vampire, his chocolate bar forgotten. "Do you still have to, like, drink blood and stuff?"

Barnabas frowns. "Regrettably, yes." He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and I sympathize for him. It must be torture, having to drain the life out of people like that.

Todd doesn't even flinch. "Does it taste good?"

Mom, Carrie, and I wrinkle our noses at him in disgust, but Barnabas chuckles. "Indeed," he says, with glowing black eyes. "It does."

My phone suddenly vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and glance at the screen, frowning at the unfamiliar number. I slide my thumb across the screen and put in my pass-code to access the new text.

HOW DO YOU LIKE THE WEREWOLF? it reads. I scowl at the message and type one of my own.

WHO IS THIS?

A few seconds later, another one arrives. I TOLD YOU THIS WASN'T OVER. I HAVE SOME CONNECTIONS HERE IN MAINE. VAMPIRES AREN'T THE ONLY SUPERNATURAL THINGS AROUND HERE, YOU KNOW.

"Jalisa," I whisper furiously, gripping the phone so tightly my knuckles turn white.

Carrie glances over at me. "Did you say something?"

I shake my head, still glaring at the screen.

"Who is it?" Carrie asks, trying to read over my shoulder. I let her, and watch as she mouths the words of the messages and frowns darkly.

"It's Jalisa, isn't it?"

I nod. "I think so."

"But how did she get your number?" she asks in disbelief. I shake my head, too confused to answer.

My phone vibrates again. YOU THINK IT WAS DIFFICULT TO ARRANGE IT SO THAT YOUR MOMMY ENDED UP WORKING FOR MY LITTLE FRIEND? Jalisa writes. NOT AS HARD AS YOU MIGHT THINK. A LITTLE BRIBERY GOES A LONG WAY.

LEAVE ME ALONE! I type furiously, stabbing the screen with my fingertips and sending the message as quickly as I can.

I can practically hear Jalisa's laughter in her next text. A BIT DEMANDING, AREN'T WE? ENJOY THE WEREWOLF, DUCKS. I HEAR THEY'RE FRIENDLY - WHEN THEY'RE NOT HUNGRY. AT LEAST, THAT'S WHAT HE TOLD ME. TA TA!

"Ta ta," I say in a whiny voice, mimicking Jalisa's tone and going back to the home screen, too angry to even look at the messages anymore. Dark questions are swirling around my head. How did Jalisa get my cell number? Will I ever be rid of the annoying redhead?

First vampires, now werewolves. My life is just one horror story after another.


	23. Chapter 23

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**_

I go to bed not long after the texting war with Jalisa ends, exhaustion weighting my limbs. I climb the stairs drearily, cursing every step which requires me to lift my foot. Once I'm in the hallway, I lean down and remove my stilettos, sighing with relief when my aching feet are flat on the floor again.

In my room, I strip out of the formal clothes and change into my shorts and Aero tank top, closing the drapes and flopping on my bed. I reach over and turn off the lamp on my nightstand, which Mom brought in earlier and set up for me. It certainly saves on phone battery.

Sleep refuses to grace me with its presence, choosing instead to evade me and make me suffer. At around eleven-thirty I sigh, swing my feet onto the floor, and grudgingly grab my phone off of my nightstand, sliding it into the pocket of my shorts. I never go anywhere without my iPhone - even if it is just across the hall to Carrie's room.

I slowly open my door, gazing out into the hallway. Some lamps are still on, to prevent the corridor from being totally pitch-black. I tiptoe out and scamper across the hall to Carrie's closed door, knocking on it quietly. I don't want to wake Todd or Mom.

"Who is it?" Carrie's groggy voice calls.

"It's Tyler," I say quietly. "I'm coming in," I add as I open the door and step inside, closing it behind me.

Through the darkness, I see Carrie's form sitting up in bed as she rubs her eyes. "What do you want, Ty?" she grumbles, dropping her hands to the bedspread and watching me walk over to sit down on the edge of the bed. "I was sleeping."

I bite my lip. "I can't sleep. I'm kind of scared," I admit, fiddling with a loose string on my shorts.

Carrie scoots over next to the wall and tugs back the blankets, making a space for me under the covers. I immediately move to lay down beside her, hauling the blankets up to my chin and staring up at the ceiling. My sister rests her chin on her palm and supports herself with her elbow, looking down at me in the dark.

"Of what?" she asks me, reaching out with her free hand to gently rub the tiny portion of my fingers that I'm daring to expose.

"The werewolf," I whisper, shivering. "What if Jalisa really did send a werewolf? What if he comes back during the night? What if Mr. Evans tries to k- k -" I can't say the word. Carrie clucks her tongue at me.

"Quit giving yourself wild ideas," she gently scolds me. "No wonder you can't sleep. Poor thing, you're terrified."

If the circumstances were different, I'd be telling Carrie that she'll be an excellent mother some day, but for the moment I'm perfectly happy accepting her comforting touch.

"Maybe there's something we can do," Carrie says in a thoughtful tone. I squint up at her, struggling to see her in the dark. I would turn a light on, but Mom's room is close by and I don't want to wake her up.

"About what?"

"Keeping Mr. Evans away."

I move the blankets down a bit so I can hear better. "Eh?"

Carrie shrugs. "Well, there's got to be something werewolves don't like, right? Maybe we can find out somehow and, I don't know, decorate the mansion with it?"

A lightbulb clicks on in my head as I catch on to what she's saying. "You mean how, like, vampires don't like silver and garlic and all that?"

She nods. "Yeah. I'm sure werewolves are pretty keen on staying away from certain things, too."

I eagerly dig around under the covers, pulling out my phone and holding it up to my face. It casts a bright glow, making me squint. I tap on the Safari icon, trying to bring up Google, but I get a notification saying Safari can't connect to the page because Safari is not connected to the Internet, blah, blah, blah.

I scowl at the phone and turn it off again, going through the hassle of putting it back in my pocket. "Useless thing."

Carrie purses her lips. "Isn't there a library here?"

I perk up. "There is?"

She gestures for me to move, and I scooch sideways. A little too far, though, as I soon find out when I fall out of the bed and flat on the floor.

I wince, sitting up and rubbing the back of my head. "Ow."

Carrie gets out of the bed like a normal person, and asks, "Are you okay?" though it's obvious she's trying not to laugh. I scowl at her.

"Help me up."

She does, and I rub my bum gently as I stand. Carrie gives me a strange look, and I frown at her.

"What?" I say defensively. "It hurts."

Carrie shakes her head at me. "You are so weird. Come on," she adds, going over to the door. "Let's go find that library."

**~DS~DS~DS~**

"This is disgusting," I say a few minutes later as we tiptoe through a thick layer of dust on our way up the stairs to the tower. Carrie turns and scowls at me over her shoulder.

"Be quiet!" she hisses. "And hold the light steady, will you? You're shaking and the light is going all over the place."

I make a face at her back, but try to prevent the flashlight from making random light patterns all over the floor. Carrie leads me up the stairs and up to a closed door.

"Is it locked?" I ask before she's even touched the knob. "Okay, I guess this was all for nothing. So are we going back downstairs?"

"Tyler!" Carrie snaps, turning to me again and glaring at me. "Chill already! This is hardly that frightening."

"Well, I'm freaked out!" I snap back, the anxiety and fear mixing in my stomach to form a roiling, toxic brew.

"Then go back downstairs!" Carrie retorts, knowing that the thought of going back to my room in the dark, alone, makes my knees like jelly.

I scowl at her. "Just see if the door's locked or not."

She smirks, but says nothing more as she turns back around and reaches for the doorknob. I hold my breath as I watch her hand make contact with the knob, and then gently twist it. It turns all the way round, and the door swings open to reveal a dark but spacious room.

With a shaking hand, I move the flashlight to shine the beam of light around the room, illuminating dusty books and shelves, and a desk with extremely old, brittle candles sitting on it.

Carrie looks back at me with wide eyes. "We're in," she says simply.


	24. Chapter 24

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**_

"Werewolves, werewolves," Carrie mutters as we peruse the shelves in the tower. I hold the flashlight, directing the beam over the spines of the books. Thus far, none of the titles sound like the contents of the book would speak about the supernatural.

"What about this?" Carrie asks me, pulling out a thick book and holding it up to the light. I squint at the title.

"_Frankenstein_?" I say incredulously, staring at my sister. "How is that going to help us? We're looking for werewolves, not monsters!"

Carrie scowls at me. "Well, a werewolf is a monster, isn't it?" she mutters, turning back to the shelves and shoving the book back into its place. I can't say I disagree with her statement, but it still doesn't help us in this situation.

We look for a while longer, before my eye catches a glimpse of a certain book. "Wait," I say, reaching out to take it off the shelf. My fingers grip the spine carefully, as every book in here is old and fragile, but this one doesn't budge. I hand the flashlight to Carrie and use both hands to try and pull it off, but I still can't move it.

"Give me a hand, will you?"

Carrie sets the flashlight on the desk, arranging it so that the light shines on us, and helps me to move the book off the shelf. We stagger over to the desk and drop the book with a thud.

"Shh!" my sister warns, pressing a finger to her lips. I look over at her with wide eyes as we wait for a moment, listening for any sounds of movement in the house. After ten minutes of absolute silence, save for the trees rustling in the wind outside the windows of the tower, I'm ready to look in the book. I glance at the cover. _Majicks and Supernatural Beings. _

"Let's see what's in here." I flip the heavy cover, and dust flies around us, making me cough. Carrie shoots me a panicked look, but doesn't say anything, and we begin to read the table of contents in silence.

_Spells and Sorceries _

_Mythical Sightings_

_Supernatural Beings_

_Protections and Enforcements _

"Supernatural Beings," Carrie says, and I nod in agreement. I turn the thick pages to the beginning of the chapter, and we begin reading the ancient, flowery text.

"Here's a passage about werewolves," I say, tapping a finger gently on the parchment. Carrie leans eagerly over the book, lips moving as she reads.

"That doesn't help us, though," she says finally, stepping back and frowning in disappointment. "It just tells us stuff we already know. They're hairy. They're half-human, half-wolf. We know, already!"

Carrie kicks the chair in disgust, and it topples over and crashes onto the floor. We both freeze and stare at each other in a tense, frightened silence.

Then... _Thump. Thump. Thump. _

"Someone's climbing the stairs!" Carrie whispers, fright evident in her wide, blue eyes.

I can only stare at her in stunned silence, feeling my heart beat erratically against my ribcage as the thumps grow steadily closer.


	25. Chapter 25

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**_

"Turn off the light!" Carrie whispers urgently. I snap out of my frozen state, clicking the button on the flashlight to turn it off, and the room plunges into complete darkness. We remain silent, not even daring to breathe. The thumps come right up to the door, and I freeze when I remember I didn't lock it. Or did I?

The knob turns, and my insides turn cold. Yet, the knob doesn't turn all the way, and whoever is trying to get in gets frustrated, twisting the knob harshly, desperate to get the door open for some reason. After five minutes of counting the seconds in my head, whoever is outside gives up and moves away from the door. The thumps of their footfalls go back down the stairs, and then continue on down the hallway.

Carrie breathes a sigh of relief. "Maybe we should take this back to one of our rooms," she suggests, practically mouthing the words. I nod in agreement, but then frown.

"Whose room?"

She rolls her eyes at me. "Yours."

I hand her the flashlight, then muster all my strength and lift the book off the desk. The muscles in my arms scream in protest, but I grip the book firmly and gesture with my chin for Carrie to open the door.

Carrie tiptoes over to the door, and slowly unlocks it and eases it open. She presses her head against the small crack and peers out. "Coast is clear," she finally whispers, glancing back at me. "We'll go to your room, and then see what we can find."

I nod, and she opens the door a bit wider and steps out. I follow, and she closes the door behind us, reaching back inside to turn the lock on the knob first. We'd had to pick the lock to open it before, as, obviously, neither one of us has a key to it.

Carrie hurries down the stairs and down the hallway. I'm just making it down the last step when Carrie is at the end of the hallway, impatiently waving me on. I waddle over to her and she leads me on, twisting and turning until finally we're back in the main hallway, and go straight down instead of turning again. Left goes down to the parlor, and right goes... Well, straight into a wall. No, thank you - doors are painful enough.

We make it to my room, and Carrie once again opens the door and lets me in before following. I make sure she's locked it before I go over to my bed and flop down, sighing with relief when I finally set the book down on my bed. It immediately droops under the book's weight.

"Okay," Carrie whispers, coming to sit across from me with her heels tucked under her bum. "Lets see what we can find. You remember the page?"

I do, but I also remember how we didn't find anything there before. "Let's try the Protections and Enforcements chapter," I suggest, turning to that page instead and holding out a hand for the flashlight. Carrie hands it to me and I shine it on the page, illuminating numerous sketches of mermaids, sirens, vampires, werewolves, and all manner of ungodly creatures. I shudder when my eyes fall on a sketch of something with teeth as long as one of my fingers.

"There," Carrie whispers, pointing to a sketch of a werewolf shying away from an assortment of items and plants. "'_Silver cannot kill a werewolf, but it can cause discomfort and great pain_,'" she reads, following the words with her finger.

"We have no silver, and there's no way we can get it," I remind her gently. "What else?"

Carrie frowns at me, but continues reading. "'_A werewolf can be killed by any wound that completely destroys the heart or the brain, but decapitation is the most efficient way_.'" She stops and looks at me hopefully. I immediately shake my head.

"No, no, no!" I say, momentarily forgetting that we're supposed to be whispering. "We can't kill the guy! We're just looking for a way to keep him away from us! Werewolf or not, I don't want to chop off the poor guy's head."

"Shh!" Carrie hisses at me, suddenly clamping her hand over my mouth. "Listen."

With my lips pinched closed, I have no choice but to remain quiet and listen. I do so, and roll my eyes when I hear nothing. Yet my eyes abruptly stop on their journey around.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. _The footsteps we heard earlier are moving down the hallway, coming closer and closer. Carrie and I exchange wide-eyed looks. I'm actually glad her hand is over my mouth, because if it wasn't, I'd be screaming bloody murder right about now.

We sit there, trembling like leaves while the doorknob jiggles around. Whoever or whatever it is seems to be desperate to get inside. They yank harder and harder on the doorknob, and I'm afraid they might break it.

This continues for a while, during which Carrie clicks off the flashlight and we sit in darkness, listening as the would-be intruder growls at the doorknob.

Carrie looks over at me, and raises her free hand. She begins tracing letters in the air. _Werewolf? _she spells out.

_How? _I 'write' back.

She shrugs. _Mr. Evans might have come back. _

_Doubt it. _

The jiggling abruptly stops outside the door. With one last, truly frightening growl, the thing outside moves away. The thumps gradually subside, as Carrie and I listen closely.

"It went left," Carrie mouths, and I nod. I'd discovered the same thing.

We wait for another few minutes to make sure whoever or whatever was out there is gone before turning the flashlight on again and look over the book again.

"'_There are three plants that can be used to ward off werewolves_,'" Carrie reads, eyes lighting up in excitement. "'_Wolfsbane, rye, and mistletoe_.'" She looks up and over at me. "I wonder if any of those grow around the mansion?"

I shrug, but I like the idea of using plant instead of an ax. "Let's find out tomorrow."

I close the book and, with Carrie's help, hide it under my bed. Since neither one of us really feels like going out in the hallway, in case the mysterious thing comes back, Carrie crawls under the covers with me.

Sleep is a long time coming.


	26. Chapter 26

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**_

"Good morning," Mom says brightly the next morning as Carrie and I stumble into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and exhausted from our sleepless night. Carrie mumbles something and I grunt in reply.

Mom frowns at us. "What's the matter with you two?" she asks, carrying a plate piled high with fried eggs over to the table. I slide into a seat, as does Carrie, and robotically reach for my fork to snag some and drop them on my plate.

"Nothing," I mumble, cutting into the eggs. They smell delicious, but I have no appetite. Beside me, Carrie is just the opposite, shoveling pieces of egg into her mouth like it's her last meal. I shudder and look back down at my plate, moving the food around but not eating it.

Someone else walks into the kitchen, and I glance up to see Barnabas taking his usual seat at the end of the table. "Good morning, ladies," he says, ever the gentleman. He sniffs curiously at the eggs, but then pushes the plate away and rests his hands in his lap. He eyes Carrie, then me, and frowns at my uneaten food. I look away and focus on swirling a piece of egg around my plate.

"Are you feeling alright, Tyler?" Mom asks, peering at me with concern written all over her face.

I drop my fork with a clatter and lean back in my chair, groaning. "Not really," I admit, rubbing my stomach gently, willing it to stop doing somersaults.

My mother sets down her fork and purses her lips at me. "Are you worried about something?"

I wince. Did she hear us moving around last night? "No," I lie, not meeting her eyes.

Her look clearly says she doesn't believe me, but she lets my comment slide, reaching out to take my plate and sliding the eggs off with her fork onto her own plate. "Maybe you should go lie down," she suggests.

It's foolish, but I really don't want to go upstairs alone. Judging by the way Carrie is forking up mouthfuls of egg, she isn't going to want to go anywhere anytime soon. I could ask Barnabas...

I glance down the table at the vampire to see him already staring at me. His look is sharp, almost accusing, like he knows something. I flinch and look away again. On second thought, I'll wait.

"Maybe I should get some juice," I say quietly, slowly standing and shuffling over to the fridge. I poor some orange juice into a glass and walk back over to my seat, plopping down and bringing the glass to my lips. My hand trembles as I do, making the liquid slosh around.

I can feel Barnabas watching me as I set the glass down on the table, but I refuse to meet his gaze. I don't like the looks he's giving me.

The other two eat in silence, while I stare glumly at my glass and run my fingertip down the sides of it, making patterns in the drops of perspiration. Carrie finally finishes and pushes her plate away, moaning with satisfaction as she leans back in her chair and chews the last few bites slowly, savoring the taste.

I reach over and gently poke her arm, and she looks at me with a raised eyebrow. I shift my eyes over to the doorway, and she nods, taking the hint that I want to go outside and look for the plants.

We stand in unison, and Mom glances up at us in surprise. "Where are you two going?"

"Up to my room for a minute, and then we're going outside," I tell her, already moving towards the doorway.

Mom frowns, dabbing at her lips with a napkin. "Don't go too far," she warns us. "This is a large property, and I don't want you two getting lost."

Beside me, Carrie snorts, and I gently elbow her. "We won't," I say to Mom, before turning and walking out, grabbing Carrie on the way.

Once we're on our way up the stairs, Carrie begins speaking. "Should we bring the book with us?" she asks me as we jog upstairs and down the hallway. "You know, to help us remember what plants and stuff?"

"Good idea."

Inside my room, I strip out of my shorts and replace them with jeans, and exchange the tank top for a white I NY T-shirt. I quickly slide my feet into my sneakers and slap an NYY cap on my head. At Carrie's raised eyebrow, I strike a pose and say, "Fashion statement." I quickly reach under my bed and haul out the book, lifting it up with both hands and balancing it on my knee. I'd forgotten how heavy this thing is.

She rolls her eyes and tugs me across the hall into her room, where she changes into jeans and an American Eagle T-shirt. While she ties her sneakers, I examine my reflection in her full-length mirror and gasp at the sight of my eyebrows.

"Dang! I've really got to pluck these." The hair is starting to grow back in the middle, and around the edges of my brows.

"Later," Carrie says, and leads me out of the bedroom and down the hallway. We descend the stairs quietly, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves and be asked a bunch of questions about the book I'm carrying. Er, lugging, more like.

My sister stops me before we walk in front of the kitchen doorway and peers inside. I roll my eyes and wait. It's like she thinks we're performing a mission, Spy 101 style.

Once Carrie deems it's safe for us to cross, we hurry across the parlor and out the door, where sunlight blinds me. I would have to forget my sunnies.

Carrie leads me over to a patch of grass a good distance away from the mansion - but not out of sight, in accordance to Mom's orders - and plops down on the grass. She pats the ground beside her, but I hesitate.

"Shouldn't we sit on a blanket or something?"

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, so you're afraid of the grass now?"

"No," I say, scowling as I carefully sit down next to her, still clutching the book in a death-grip. "I just hate what it does to my clothes."

"Sit still and you won't have to worry."

I raise an eyebrow at my sister. "Are you implying I squirm?"

"You do in your sleep," Carrie tells me, and reaches to pry the book out of my arms. "I have a bruise on my thigh where you kicked me last night."

"Shut up."

We carefully set the book on the ground and flip open the cover, batting away the dust flying around as we scan the table of contents. "Page four-thirteen," Carrie tells me, and I turn the thick pages in groups until finally, we land on the correct page.

"Wolfsbane, rye, and mistletoe," I say, reading off the page. "You suppose we have any of those around here?"

Carrie shrugs, eyeing the sketches. "Not sure. Although," she adds, pointing to a sketch of wolfsbane, "I think I saw this in Willie's garden."

We both look up at the same time and glance over at the gardener, who's staggering through the plants drunkenly, splashing water over them from the can he's carrying. His hair is greasy and sticking to his head, and large, dark patches are forming on his clothes from his sweat. He's the image of absolute gross-ness. I grimace and look back down to the book.

"You go look, I'll wait here."

Carrie scowls at me. "How am I supposed to remember what it looks like?"

Rolling my eyes, I pull my phone out of my pocket and bring up the camera app. I snap a picture of the wolfsbane plant and hand the phone to Carrie. "There. Now you will remember," I tell her, sounding like the zombie from _Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides _when he throws the voodoo doll over the cliff.

Carrie makes a face at me and takes the iPhone, standing and making her way over to the garden. I watch her go, then turn back to the book and examine the sketches.

I'm lost in my own little world and I don't notice a person in a dark suit walking towards me until I feel a hand on my shoulder.

Shrieking, I scramble backwards and look up, but find myself blinded by the sun. I yelp and throw my arm up to shield my eyes before I risk glancing up again. I scowl when I see Barnabas standing there, with his heavy trench coat and wide-brimmed hat.

"Troubles, Tyler?" he asks me, smirking slightly. I glare at him and try to discreetly close the book and tug it towards me. His eyebrows raise at my movements.

"What are you doing?" he says, placing his gloved hands behind his back.

"Nothing."

Barnabas gives me a dark look. "What were you doing last night?"

My heart starts pounding. Was that him outside my bedroom door? "Sleeping, what else?" I retort, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I hold the book against my chest and wrap my arms around it, drawing my knees up in a protecting fashion.

The vampire stares at me, unblinking. "Then why the midnight trip to the tower?"

Busted.


	27. Chapter 27

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**_

The way I see it, I have two choices.

Option A: I can throw caution to the wind and flat-out lie to Barnabas, claiming that I was never in the tower last night. Tears can be produced if needed.

Or, Option B: Own up to the truth and admit what I did.

Bring on the tears, baby.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I say firmly, meeting his eyes and refusing to back down. Well, for the first five seconds, anyway, then I glance back down to the book in my lap.

I can almost hear the smirk in Barnabas' voice when he speaks again. "Oh? Then why the insecurity, Tyler?" he asks, using a mocking tone when he says my name. That makes me angry.

"What does it matter to you?" I shoot back, gently sliding the book onto the grass and standing up, dusting off my jeans as I stare Barnabas down. He raises an eyebrow, smirking as he watches me. "Even if I did go up to the tower last night, why would you care?"

The vampire seems to stand taller, as though he's satisfied. Jerk. "I simply don't want you up there."

I scowl at him and cross my arms. "Why?"

Barnabas mirrors my stance, frowning darkly. "I have my reasons."

"Oh, that's self-explanatory," I say sarcastically, bending over to hoist the book up into my arms and glaring at Barnabas. "Sorry, but I'm not exactly a mind-reader," I add before I turn and begin walking towards the garden, where Carrie is still talking to Willie.

A hand suddenly grips my arm, refusing to let go. "Tyler," the vampire says from behind me, "Do not go up into the tower again. Unless I am with you, I do not want you, your sister, or anyone else in this household to go up there. Am I clear?"

I swallow hard. "Inescapably clear."

Barnabas lets go, and I move away as fast as my short legs will carry me. I didn't realize just how far away the garden actually is.

"So, you haven't seen any of these plants around the property?" Carrie is saying when I move up next to her. Willie glances over and nods at me, then frowns at the book in my arms. The way his eyes darken and his lips tighten says he knows something, but there's little to no chance he'll say what it is.

"No," the gardener says, still glaring at the book. "I can't say that I have."

I form an L with my fingers and hold it in Carrie's line of vision. She nods slightly and says to Willie, "Are you sure? Because I think I see something that looks like mistletoe -" she points to a small gathering of bushes several feet away "- right over there."

Willie's mouth opens and closes several times as he turns to look at the bushes. His face drains of color, and his eyes go wide with shock and recognition. "I've never seen those here before," he finally says, still staring at the bushes. "M-miss Jennifer m-must have had them p-p-planted while the w-workers were h-here."

"Willie, I didn't know you had a stutter," I remark. The book is weighing down on my limbs, but I manage to jut out a hip cockily. If my arms were free, I'd be placing my hands on my hips, but under the circumstances, this will have to do.

The man turns red. "Normally I don't, Ma'am." He fidgets nervously with the gardening can in his hands.

"Then why the sudden speech impediment now?" I ask innocently, but in my mind, I'm shouting, _Sucker! _

Willie starts to sputter out a response, but suddenly a pair of hands clamp down on my shoulders, making me flinch in surprise. The gardener looks relieved when he sees whoever it is behind me.

"Ah, Master Barnabas," Willie says, shooting me a triumphant look. "How nice to see you."

I scowl at the falsely-pleasant tone in his voice. Jerk.

The hands on my shoulders tighten their grip. "Yes," a smooth, accented voice I know all too well says. "A pleasure to see you as well, Master Willie. And, of course, Miss Carrie and Miss Tyler." Barnabas digs his fingers into my skin, making me wince. Dang, his nails are sharp.

"Pleasure," Carrie mutters, looking away angrily and kicking the toe of her sneaker into the dirt. Willie looks down at his recently-planted flowers in concern. He starts to say something, but Barnabas cuts him off abruptly.

"Miss Tyler, might I have a word?" the vampire asks me.

I feel like saying no, he can't, but I have a feeling it wouldn't be the wisest decision. Instead, I nod meekly and allow him to lead me away like a small child, with me still clutching the book like a drowning sailor clutches a lifeline.


	28. Chapter 28

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT**_

Barnabas leads me away, guiding me around the building and out of sight of the others. He's finally pulled his hands off my shoulders, but instead, he's placed his right hand on the small of my back, and is using the other to tap his walking stick on the ground as we walk. He says nothing, and every time I look up at him, his lips are set in a thin line and his eyes are staring dead ahead, like a model on the runway.

He takes me to a secluded place. Stone walls form an almost-complete circle around us, and a small bench sits towards the back. Barnabas sighs and stretches his arm out in a gesture for me to sit on the bench. I hesitate, but he applies a slight pressure to my back. I immediately move towards the bench and gently slide the book onto the ground before I take a seat, pressing myself purposely into the very end of the bench so that I won't have to sit near the vampire.

Barnabas stares at the book. "Where did you get that?"

I sigh. There's no escaping the truth now. "The tower."

He heaves a sigh, much bigger than my own. "Why were you up there?"

Frowning, I cross my legs, then uncross them and balance on my toes, jiggling my left knee. "Um..." I begin, looking anywhere but at the man beside me, "Curiosity?"

Barnabas raises an eyebrow at me and smirks a bit. "Curiosity killed the cat, Tyler."

"But satisfaction brought it back," I counter, raising my eyebrows high and smiling triumphantly. Barnabas chuckles, not moving his gaze from my own. I'm vaguely aware that he's moving his hand towards my own, but I'm in too much of a daze, spellbound by the depths of his eyes.

A car horn suddenly blares, and Barnabas and I spring apart. A large yellow Mustang sits in the driveway, and who else but Mr. Evans is behind the wheel. My mom's boss smiles at me, showing his teeth that are sharper than normal. I scowl at him and look over at Barnabas.

He's staring at the Mustang with a dark frown on his pale face. "Excuse me, Miss Stoddard," he suddenly says, rising and making his way towards Mr. Evans.

"Uh oh," I mutter, "Cat fight." I quickly stand and start following after Barnabas.

"The book!" I quickly turn and scoop up the book off the ground, staggering from the weight of it. Then I move as fast as my short legs will carry me, hurrying to catch up with Barnabas before the werewolf and vampire start a major catfight. Monster fight?

I roll my eyes at my own thoughts and stagger on.


	29. Chapter 29

_**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE**_

"Can't... Hold... On... Much... Longer!" I groan, struggling with the heavy weight of the book as I stumble after Barnabas. He's already a good twenty feet ahead of me, striding quickly and purposefully towards Mr. Evans' yellow Mustang sitting in the driveway. The head man himself is sitting in his vehicle with a cocky grin on his clean-shaven face. I have the urge to slap it off.

"Barnabas," I whine, "Wait!"

He actually does stop and looks back at me, eyebrows furrowed behind those massive sunglasses, then sighs impatiently and waits for me to catch up. I finally do, gasping and panting as I come to stand beside him. Without a word, he reaches down to lift the book out of my arms. I sag with relief and stuff my hands in my pockets as I follow him.

"Well, well," Mr. Evans says when we're finally standing beside his car. "What do we have here? Ms. Duck-nose herself."

I blush furiously, but manage to give a snarky reply. "Ducks don't have noses, moron. They have beaks."

His grin disappears and he snarls at me. "Watch it, Miss Tyler," he says in a low, warning tone, "Or I'll have to disregard Jalisa's orders of bringing you back alive."

I frown. "Bringing me back?"

Mr. Evans scowls. "Yes, bringing you back to Jalisa's little apartment. She specifically said to bring you relatively unharmed and alive, but I could always bend the rules and tell her there were... _Complications_."

I gulp. I don't like the way he's staring at me.

Barnabas shifts the book under his other arm and places his free hand on my waist, drawing me into his side protectively. "I'm sorry, Mr. Evans," he says smoothly, "But there will be no complications, and no journeys to Miss Jalisa's accommodations."

Mr. Evans laughs in Barnabas' face. "Ah, but you see, Barney," he says, and I bristle at the nickname, "I have specific orders. And if I don't follow them to the very letter..." He raises his hands helplessly and has the grace to look sheepish. "I don't get the money."

I snort. "Oh, so she's paying you to abduct me?"

My mom's boss glares at me. "Watch it, you little toad -" he begins to snarl, but a sudden voice abruptly cuts him off.

"Mr. Evans!" Have I ever been more happy to hear my mother's voice? No. No I haven't. "Won't you come inside?" She's standing in the doorway with one hand on her hip, the other on the doorframe, smiling brightly. "Have a cup of coffee?"

Her boss nods politely and smiles. "I don't mind if I do, Jenny," he calls to her, then has the nerve to wink at me. I scowl at him and look away.

Barnabas moves back as Mr. Evans opens his door, and I move with him, instinctively reaching up to rub my bandaged nose. It's healing, slowly but surely, but I don't want to take any chances of being hit with a door again. Once is enough, thank you.

"What do we do now?" I murmur to Barnabas as Mr. Evans smiles brightly at my mom and joins her, even going so far as to hold out his arm for her to take like a gentleman from Barnabas' time era would. I roll my eyes when she practically swoons and accepts it.

Barnabas doesn't even glance away from the - _ick _- couple. "Now... We wait."

He sounds eerily like the vampire version of Indiana Jones or Crocodile Dundee.

I lift a shoulder and an eyebrow, watching the heavy door swing shut behind them. Apparently, Mom's too focused on her visitor to notice her own daughter standing out in the driveway.

Beside me, Barnabas shifts, and then I feel a hand slipping across my back to grip my waist in a gentle but firm grip. Confused, I glance down to see a pale, ringed hand, then back up again to see Barnabas' coal-black eyes already staring down at me, unblinking and unwavering. Goosebumps rise on my arms and icy fingers tapdance down my spine.

_Dang it! _I yell mentally, blushing furiously when he begins to lean lower, but I don't pull away.

_I hope Mom doesn't mind us being late for supper _is the last thing to cross my mind before Barnabas' lips touch my own - and I'm lost to the world.


	30. Chapter 30

_**CHAPTER THIRTY**_

I'm not sure how much time passed while I was outside with Barnabas, but when I walk into the dining room a while later, clutching the vampire's hand, Mom, Mr. Evans, and Carrie are already seated and eating supper. My stomach rumbles when I look at the pieces of chicken sitting on the large plate in the center, just begging to be eaten.

Mr. Evans glances up at scowls at me, running the knife through the piece of chicken with more force than necessary. Mom looks at him and frowns, then follows his gaze to where I'm standing. I blush even more and try to let go of Barnabas' hand, but he squeezes mine gently and holds on more firmly.

Mom frowns at me. "Where were you?" she demands, dabbing at her lips with her napkin daintily. "Your supper is getting cold."

Carrie looks up and smirks. "Jeez, Tyler," she says, "What did you two kids get up to? Your face is red as a tomato." She pops a piece of chicken in her mouth and wiggles her eyebrows at me. I scowl at her and turn back to Mom.

"We were outside," I manage to say, then falter slightly when I add, "Barnabas wanted to show me the sunset."

It's not a lie - well, not totally, anyway. He did show me the sunset, but only after making my lips swollen and my chin raw. I nervously raise a hand and try to subtly feel my lips. They're still puffy. Barnabas looked mighty proud when he saw how red they were after he kissed me for the millionth time.

Mom notices the movement, and for a terrifying second I think she might say something in front of everyone, but she only gives a small, knowing smile and resumes eating.

"Well, have a seat then," she finally says after chewing what's in her mouth. "Eat something before it gets cold," she adds, picking up a French fry and taking a bite.

I nod and go to pull out my chair, but Barnabas beats me to it and gallantly slides it gently across the floor, gesturing sweetly for me to have a seat. I blush even more, but manage to gracefully sit down and stab a wing with my fork, plopping it on my plate and beginning to slice into it with the knife.

Barnabas takes a seat next to me and clears his throat, adjusting his cravat and carefully tapping the silverware. He finally deems it safe and leans back in his chair, smiling with his mouth closed. I can't help but notice that Mom hasn't set a plate in front of him.

Carrie raises a brow at him. "Why aren't you sitting down there?" she asks bluntly, twitching her head towards the other end of the table where Barnabas usually sits.

"He can sit wherever he wants," I snap, surprising myself and everyone else there. I quickly shut my mouth and focus on cutting the chicken, chewing stormily on a French fry. I've really got to learn to keep my mouth shut, or my mom is bound to be suspicious - if she isn't already.

I keep my head down, while chatter circulates around the table, the topics ranging from Mom's work to Mr. Evans' plans for the company. I push the food around on my plate. Despite not having eaten since early this morning, I'm really not that hungry.

I feel Barnabas looking at me, but I ignore him. After another few minutes of listening to Mr. Evans boast about how profits are going to shoot through the roof, I stand and carry my plate over to the garbage can. The pieces of chicken make dull thunking sounds as they land in the bottom. I put the plate and my glass in the sink, then go back over to the table and push in my chair.

Mom watches all my actions with raised eyebrows, her fork paused halfway between her plate and her mouth. "Not hungry tonight, Tyler?" she asks.

I shake my head, twirling a strand of hair around my finger. "No." I hesitate, but then ask, "May I be excused?"

She nods. "Yes, of course," she tells me. "I'll come up and check on you later."

I barely hear any of it. I'm already on my way out the door and through the parlor.

**~DS~DS~DS~**

Not five minutes after I'm in my room, reclining on my bed with a novel by Sarah Dessen, I hear a knock on my door. I hesitate. It's probably just Mom outside the door, but with Mr. Evans around...

I dare not even finish that sentence - not even in my mind.

"Who is it?" I call out, making my voice as strong as possible.

"It's just me," Carrie's voice answers. "Can I come in?"

I sigh with relief. "Yeah."

The door swings open and Carrie walks in. Her hands are buried in her blonde hair, twisting it up into a ponytail. She kicks the door shut and comes over to sit down on my bed.

"Are you okay?" she asks me, still twisting her hair through the elastic. "You didn't eat."

I raise an eyebrow. "Is that a fat joke?" I ask her, but my teasing has less pazazz behind it than usual. To be truthful, Mr. Evans being around so much is making me uneasy. Add in the fact that Jalisa wants me to be taken to her lair of doom - sorry, _apartment _- and I'm feeling extra jumpy.

Carrie frowns at me, but her look of annoyance quickly turns to concern when she hears the tremor in my voice. "You're not okay, are you?" she says quietly.

Dang it, Carrie!

I sigh. "No," I tell her honestly. "Mr. Evans is making me nervous." I spill about what happened earlier - not including the kissing session - and fidget when Carrie goes pale.

"Do you think we should tell Mom about this?" she says. Her voice sounds muted, like she's afraid of talking too loudly should they hear us, even though we both know they're downstairs.

All I can do is shake my head. "I don't know, Carrie," I say, looking up to meet her eyes. They're wide with fear, and I hate the helpless feeling that overwhelms me. For the first time in my life, I can't quell her fear, because there's no one to help quell my own.

"I just don't know."


	31. Chapter 31

_**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE**_

"Tyler!"

I moan something incoherent to my own ears, and turn over, burying my face into the pillow. Unfortunately, it does nothing, as my sister's voice refuses to fade. A minute later I feel a pair of hands gripping my shoulders. My brain rattles around in my skull with the force of Carrie's strength.

"I'm up, I'm up! Mercy! Uncle!" I yell out every childhood phrase that I learned from wrestling with my sister in the hopes that she'll let go. Eventually, she does, and once my head stops spinning I sit up and glare at her. "Was that really necessary?" I demand, crossing my arms as I strain to make out her figure in the darkness. Wait...

"Why is it so dark in here?" I say, before Carrie can answer my first question. My sister rolls her eyes and points to the window. I follow her finger with my eyes and blink in surprise when I discover it's pitch black outside the mansion.

"You fell asleep," Carrie points out, moving over to my bed and flopping down. I groan when she sprawls out over my legs, but she ignores me and just makes herself more comfortable. "Mom went to bed about fifteen minutes ago. Mr. Evans has been gone since nine-thirty, and Barnabas has been MIA ever since nine."

I frown and try to sit up as much as I can with the one hundred and ten pounds sitting on my legs. "What time is it now?" I ask, and nearly flip when Carrie tells me it's eleven at night.

"_What_-" I begin to screech, but Carrie quickly leans forward and slaps a hand over my mouth.

"Hush!" she hisses at me. "You'll wake everyone!"

"Mmph," I manage. "Mmphs Mmphd?"

"What?"

I roll my eyes. "Where's Todd?" I repeat once my sister removes her hand. Her eyes suddenly widen at the mention of our brother. For a minute, she doesn't say anything, then when she does speak, it's in a whisper.

"I don't know."

"Oh good, Carrie, good. Where do you think he is? Did the werewolf take him?" I say teasingly, then regret it at Carrie's hurt look. "Sorry. Let's go look for him."

She nods and leaps off my bed. "Right. Want to check the tower first?"

"Why?"

Carrie shrugs. "I think he knows about it." At my alarmed look, she quickly adds, "He doesn't know about the book, though. Speaking of the book," she adds, glancing around, "Where is it?"

"Under my bed," I say proudly. My sister rolls her eyes.

"Genius."

"I thought so."

"You're an idiot. Come on, let's go find him." Carrie leads the way to the door, and is about to step out into the hallway when I stop her.

"Wait." I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, fiddling with it until the brightness is set to never fade. "We can use this as a flashlight."

My sister nods, and we carry on down the hallway, starting out on our quest. The mansion is eerie in the darkness of night, and I flinch with every creak and groan the old timbers utter with the wind pushing against the building.

The third time I bump into Carrie from behind, she turns around and scowls at me. "Watch it, will you?" she demands. "You're going to make me fall."

"I'm sorry," I say honestly. "I'm just scared."

"Of what? The boogeyman?" a male voice suddenly asks.

Two twin shrieks pierce the air, and through the pounding of my heart, I hear Todd's laughter echoing through the hallway.

"I got you!" he chortles, clutching his sides. "Oh my gosh, you should have seen your faces!"

"Todd!" I yell, "I'm gonna kill you! You little devil, I'm gonna -"

"Shh! Shh!" Carrie suddenly whispers, motioning for us both to be quiet. I resign myself to hostile glances at Todd and follow her instructions.

"Listen," she whispers.

I do, and at first I don't hear anything. Then... _Thump. Thump. Thump. _Footsteps are coming up the stairs, from the parlor. I freeze, and flinch when I feel Carrie's hand slip into mine, but I utter not a sound.

The footsteps continue up the stairs, and I'm so focused on my own fear that I forget my phone is still turned on.

"Tyler!" Carrie practically mouths. "The light!"

I quickly turn off the iPhone and the hallway is plunged into absolute darkness. Any attempt at calming my erratic heartbeat is futile. Fear courses through my veins like an icy poison while I stand with my siblings and wait for...

For what? I'm not sure exactly, but I doubt it can be anything good.

The footsteps come up the stairs and pause in the center of the hallway. I blink furiously, straining my eyes trying to see through the darkness. I'm not entirely sure, but I think I see...

Barnabas?

Carrie's suddenly tight grip on my hand confirms my suspicion.

Barnabas turns to the right, and for a moment, it seems like he's staring straight into my eyes. Then he turns and moves off to the left, and his footsteps slowly fade as he moves away, disappearing into the darkness as suddenly as he came.

My siblings grip each of my hands and, slowly, we move together down the hallway. We come to Todd's room first, and quickly turn into it. Carrie closes the door almost silently behind us, but the slight click it makes sounds like a gunshot to me.

"Well," Todd says after a tense minute of silence. "That was interesting."

I want to smack him, but I don't, for some odd reason. Any other time I would have, but somehow, the incident with the vampire in the hallway has almost brought us closer together, in a way.

In the darkness of the room, with my siblings on either side of me, I begin to laugh.


	32. Chapter 32

_**CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO**_

We camp out in Todd's room for the night, since none of us feel like walking through the dark hallway to our own rooms. I'm the only one still in my jeans. Todd offers me a pair of his shorts.

"Why?" I ask incredulously. "They won't fit."

Todd gives me an insulted look. "They probably will. You're small, and I'm big for my age, so you'll fit into them without a problem."

I roll my eyes, but sadly, he's not exaggerating. I accept the pair of Spiderman pajama shorts from him. "Turn around!" I command, and once I'm sure his back is turned I quickly shimmy out of my jeans and into the shorts. I leave my T-shirt on. There's no way I am sleeping in just my bra with my perverted little brother around.

Carrie and I take the bed, and Todd sleeps on the floor. I don't like the idea, but when Todd gets an idea into his head, there's no stopping him. He ends up taking a thick wad of blankets, mostly to cover up with, but a few to use as a pillow.

My two siblings drop off to sleep almost immediately, but I lie awake for a while, staring at the ceiling, the old-ladyish wallpaper, Carrie's peaceful face on the pillow beside me. My heart has finally stopped pounding, but I still can't get the question out of my mind: _where was Barnabas? Why had he come in so late? _Dark questions swirl around my head.

After almost an hour of lying there, trying in vain to get to sleep, I slowly sit up and push the blankets away. I hold my breath when Carrie murmurs something incoherent in her sleep, but then let it out again when she rolls over and begins snoring quietly. The floor is cold, but I ignore the discomfort and walk barefoot over to the door. I would snitch a pair of Todd's socks, but I'm afraid any noise might wake them up, and my plan would be ruined.

_Plan? _my mind mocks me as I twist the doorknob and slip outside into the chilly hallway. _What plan? _What plan, indeed. I have no idea what I'm going to do, but I do know one thing: I want answers.

I frown for a moment, trying to remember which way I saw Barnabas go. Then I gather my courage, tug up the Spiderman shorts, and begin walking east.


	33. Chapter 33

_**CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE**_

Sometimes, I stop and reflect back on my many mistakes in life. Running around in my brother's Spiderman shorts in the dark is at the top of my list.

I've long since lost count of how many times I've had to stop and tug them up as I make slow progress down the hallway. The waistband is much looser than what I'm used to, and I find myself wishing to heaven and back that these stupid shorts had a drawstring.

"Ouch!" I hiss, louder than I mean to when I stub my toe on something in the dark. I reach out blindly and feel around, and yelp quietly when I smack my hand on the wall. Cradling it to my chest, I reach out with my left hand and begin groping about in the darkness. Almost immediately it connects with something solid... Something soft. Almost silky.

_What the...? _I feel around a bit more. I'm able to discern smooth, round shapes - buttons. Too late, I realize I'm feeling someone's suit, and that the figure in the darkness is most likely Barnabas. Before I can snatch my hand back, his freezing cold hand comes to grasp mine firmly.

"Good evening, Tyler," his buttery English voice says, wafting over me and almost making me swoon. Almost. I do have my pride, you know. "How nice to see you."

I scowl at where I think his face is. "Yeah," I say sarcastically, trying to free my hand from his. "But it would be even more enjoyable if I could actually, you know, see you."

"Missing my handsome face already?" Barnabas asks, sounding smug. I scowl even more, but before I can reply, an odd feeling begins to take over my waist, and then things begin to slide.

"Uh... Barnabas? Can I have my hand back?" I ask, trying to sound sweet even though my voice is a little shaky. With my free hand, I'm furiously tugging up the shorts, but they don't intend to stay put for long.

Barnabas chuckles, and under normal circumstances, I would be shivering with the effect his voice has on me. Except, at the moment? The only reason I'm shivering is because things are starting to get a bit chilly.

"Now, why would I do that?" he asks me, in a voice that he's no doubt practiced using on the ladies. "I happen to like holding your hand."

"As do I, but at the moment I really need it back!" I plead with him, trying to yank my hand back and with the other hand, desperately hauling up Todd's shorts. I'm seriously starting to wish I'd just left my jeans on.

Barnabas lets go, finally, and I immediately reach down and lift the shorts with both hands, sighing with relief when I know for sure that they're not going anywhere.

"What's the matter, Tyler?" the vampire asks me, and I wince at the hurt tone in his voice. "I didn't mean to offend you." I can perfectly imagine his determined face when he speaks again. "If I have done so, I shall do everything in my power to make amends."

I laugh a bit, moving closer to Barnabas so that I can lean my forehead on his chest - the only way I can hug him without the shorts being down around my ankles. "Don't worry," I tell him, my voice muffled by his suit. "You haven't offended me at all. I just don't want my shorts to fall down."

Barnabas chuckles. The vibrating motions of his chest are soothing against my cheek, and despite the chill coming off his body, I feel more comfort than I did before. "That would be a most interesting situation, would it not?" he says quietly, laughing a bit.

I roll my eyes, but smile in the darkness. "It probably would," I agree, adjusting my position against him. My feet are getting tired, but I don't want to complain. "The shorts are my brother's," I add.

"Then I must admit, I am jealous of him," Barnabas tells me, and I blush fiercely.

We stand there in silence for a few more minutes, before Barnabas heaves a sigh. "We must get you back into bed, my darling," he says quietly.

I moan and push my head into his chest. "I don't wanna," I protest, sounding like a small child rather than a seventeen-year-old.

Barnabas chuckles, but nonetheless gently pushes me back and holds me at arm's length. "We must," he says firmly, and although I can't see him leaning down, I somehow know he is just before his lips touch mine.

I kiss him back without hesitating, and it seems like everything else disappears. Then I taste the blood.

I pull back immediately and stare at him in shock. My head is spinning, and the metallic taste of the blood has left a horrible taste in my mouth.

Barnabas' face is close enough to mine so that I can see the pitiful expression on his face, but I don't feel sympathy. Instead, I tear myself from his arms and run back down the hallway, blindly stumbling into Todd's room and closing the door with a dull thud.

My siblings stir slightly, but neither wake up. I breathe a heavy sigh and, wiping my lips on the hem of my T-shirt as I walk, go back over to the bed and carefully climb under the covers beside my sister. She mumbles something and rolls over to face me, clutching the blankets tightly in her fists. Her face is scrunched up as though she's worried about something.

I reach out and gently run my palm over her forehead, and the worried expression disappears. She breathes deeply, peacefully, and does not stir again as she drifts off to dreamland. I wish to heaven and back that I could follow her there, but sleep evades me, and it's not until dawn begins shining through the window that I can finally fall asleep.


	34. Chapter 34

_**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR**_

The bedroom is quiet when my eyelids crack open several hours later. Sunlight pouring through the window lights the walls and chases away the darkness with its warm, golden glow. I slowly sit up, rubbing my eyes. My phone tells me that it's 10:08 AM.

Stretching, I reach my arms high above my head and groan softly when I feel a satisfied pop in my shoulders and lower back. Carrie's still asleep, her blonde hair carefully arranged about her face on the pillow as though someone had placed it there specifically for a photo shoot. I smile softly, reaching over to gently rub a thick strand between my fingers. It feels like silk.

I carefully rise from the bed and pad softly over to the door, shivering as I grasp the cool metal with already-cold fingers. With chattering teeth and trembling limbs I tiptoe across the freezing floor and hurry into my own igloo-like room and close the door behind me. I turn three-quarters of the way around and abruptly stop moving.

_Is my breathing really that loud?_

Testing myself, I carefully adjust my breathing so that it is quieter and less noticeable, and then I hear it: another person breathing. The scariest scene in every horror movie I've ever seen... Only in real life.

_And I thought a vampire was scary._

"Tyler?"

I shriek - loudly. My hand, which was previously gripping my iPhone in my pocket, flies around wildly as I spin and flail helplessly, screaming all the while. A dull thunk finally shuts me up and sets off a new panic alarm. My phone!

With a cry of, "Oh, crap!" I totally ignore the intruder who somehow knows my name and begin frantically scanning my room, searching for the castaway piece of technology. I finally find it lying facedown on the floor and quickly pick it up, scanning it for any cracks or missing pieces. Finding it to be still in once piece, I sigh with relief and slide it back into my pocket.

I hear a sigh. "Is that confounded piece of technology really that important, Tyler?"

I whirl around, my lips already pursing to fire off a feisty reply to the intruder when I finally cast my gaze on who it is. The reply melts off of my lips and instead all I can squeak out is, "Barnabas?"

The vampire sighs and nods, crossing his arms over his muscled chest. "Yes, it's me," he answers in a low tone, not blinking as he boldly studies me. His gaze moves slowly down my body before moving at a snail's pace on the way back up. A wide grin splits his lips as he finally meets my eyes again. "I must say," he eventually says, "I do enjoy your appearance first thing in the morning. Your outfit is a daily surprise."

I roll my eyes. "So is your appearance," I reply, blushing as I slide my thumb across the screen to unlock my phone. Five new texts greet me.

HEY! HAVEN'T HEARD FROM YOU SINCE THE MOVE! TEXT ME, WOMAN! Brianna.

YO, BRO, WHERE'D YOU GO? Chris. Always a joker and fun to be around.

YOU SHOULD TOTALLY SEND ME AN I LOVE NEW YORK T-SHIRT. JUST SAYING. I chuckle. Typical Liana.

TEXT ME! I reply to Liam's text with a smiley face.

The last message makes me pause. It's from an unknown number, and the message is simple, but speaks loud and clear.

I'LL SEE YOU SOON.


	35. Chapter 35

_**CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE**_

"Tyler? Are you quite alright?"

I stare at my phone in shock, barely registering the fact that Barnabas has just said something to me. "Uh, yes. No. I don't know. Maybe?" I squeak.

He sighs, and then I feel his cold hands take my phone. I finally look up and chew my lip nervously as I watch his expression change from annoyed, to surprised, to murderous.

"When did she send you this?" Barnabas growls, glaring daggers at the phone.

I reach out a trembling hand and carefully take it from him, and scroll clumsily to find the time when the message was sent. "5:08 AM," I finally say.

The vampire nods, looking directly at my face but seeming to just look through me at something only he could see. "Very well then. Tyler, go find your siblings. I will find your mother and inform her of what is going on." He begins walking towards the door, taking long strides that my short legs could never keep up with.

"Wait!" I call after him, panicking at the thought of being left alone. "What..." I flounder helplessly, not knowing what to say, but knowing that I do _not _want to be by myself at the moment. I glance over my shoulder like the damsels in horror movies and instantly kick myself mentally. "Uh... What do I tell them?" I blurt.

Barnabas sets his jaw. "Tell them... That it ends today!" Then he lifts his walking stick, which I suddenly realize he's been holding this whole time, and disappears in a flurry of silk.

**~DS~DS~DS~**

Todd is grumpy when I wake him, and Carrie is disgruntled, but by the time I finish explaining what's going on, their eyes are wide and their faces are pale.

Then Todd jumps up and shouts, "Huzzah! A time for heroes! A time... For Todd the great!" He leaps up onto his bed and spreads his arms wide, bowing to an imaginary audience who is, no doubt, applauding him in his imagination.

"Todd!" I snap. "This is serious!"

My brother sighs and flops onto his back. "I am being serious," he insists. "This calls for a hero, and I happen to think I fit that criteria."

"You don't," Carrie tells him. "But Barnabas does." She turns to me, fixing those wide, innocent, baby blue eyes on me and asks, "But what do _we _do?"

Her question makes Todd pause in his grumbling and then he turns his green eyes on my own. I falter, not knowing what to say. This decision could make us, or break us - quite literally.

Setting my jaw the way I saw Barnabas do, I say firmly, "We make a plan."

**~DS~DS~DS~**

**BATTLE PLAN FOR THE COLLINWOOD MANSION**

**NOBLE WARRIORS: **

**Jennifer Stoddard**

**Tyler Stoddard**

**Carolyn Stoddard**

**Todd Stoddard**

**FEARLESS ENEMIES:**

**Jalisa **

**Mr. Evans**

**STRATEGIES:**

Todd pauses in his writing and looks up at me. "Do we even have a strategy?" he asks.

Carrie reviews what he's written and then scowls at him. "Why'd you put Carolyn?" she demands. "I go by 'Carrie', not 'Carolyn'. It's such an old lady name."

Our brother shrugs. "I wanted it to be official," he tells us simply.

I roll my eyes and place a hand on Carrie's shoulder before World War III starts. "Okay you two, chill," I tell them. "Now, we need a strategy. Jalisa will probably be showing up soon, and she'll more than likely have Mr. Evans with her. Carrie, do you have the book?"

Carrie pats the gigantic book lying beside her on the floor. "Right here."

We're gathered in Todd's room, sitting on the floor with the book Carrie and I stole from the attic. Todd has a piece of paper in front of him, on which he's written our names, our enemies' names, and our battle strategies. Well, he's going to be writing our battle strategies, anyway. I hope.

"Okay, see if you can find anything for battling a werewolf."

She heaves the book onto her lap and flips to the table of contents. Muttering to herself, she grips a large chunk of papers and flips to a section about halfway through the book. Trailing a finger down the page, she finally stops and taps a certain paragraph.

"Here!" Carrie exclaims excitedly. "Let's see... We've got the traditional silver bullet method, sharp object method -"

"What about blunt object method?" Todd suddenly interrupts excitedly. Carrie and I look at him in disbelief. "What? Maybe we could, you know, throw a mallet at him or something."

"Todd, we're not looking to kill the guy, just maybe... Contain him for a while!" I say, exasperated.

"But he's a werewolf!"

"That doesn't matter! The last thing we need is a murder case on our hands!"

At my last statement, we all fall silent. Carrie bites her lip, Todd frowns at his piece of paper, and I wish I could take back my words. It's too late now, though, and reality has suddenly hit us, and hard.

I may be the only one who has realized it, but something very, very bad is going to happen - and soon.


	36. Chapter 36

_**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX**_

Todd is the first to bounce back from my rather morbid statement. "Alright," he says suddenly, straightening his posture and tightening his grip on the pen. "Strategies. What have we got?"

Carrie reviews the massive book again. "Well, we don't exactly have silver bullets," she says, biting her lip, "and Tyler doesn't like the idea of using a mallet -"

"Neither do you," I interrupt, crossing my arms.

My sister frowns at me and continues talking. "So, we're left with only one option, I guess."

"What's that?" Todd asks impatiently. I roll my eyes. Patience, grasshopper. I snicker quietly and fold my legs Indian style. Something tells me we're going to be here a while.

"Well," Carrie says slowly, "We could barter with them -"

"Barter?" Todd hoots. "You don't barter with a werewolf. You _kill _it." He mimes fighting with a massive creature and then pretends to plunge a blade into the invisible beast. I grimace and pretend there's something interesting on the floor by my foot. I suddenly realize I'm still wearing Todd's Spiderman shorts.

"Uh, I'll be right back."

I jump up and shuffle out of the room and across the hallway - because running is so not an option - and make my way into my own room. Sliding over to my closet (no matter how old you are, it's always fun to slide on floors in your sock feet), I pull out a pair of jeans and a fresh T-shirt. Glancing around my room to make sure I'm not alone and that Barnabas isn't going to surprise me again, I shimmy out of the clothes I'm currently wearing and into the new, delightfully clean garments.

Grabbing my brush, I slide across the hall again, and upon entering Todd's room, I freeze just inside the doorway. It appears that Barnabas has deemed himself a member of our little battle group.

_Little being the keyword there, Tyler._

I try to force back a scowl. "Um... What are you doing here?" I manage to ask without sounding overly mean or suspicious. Then again, I do have a right to - he randomly appeared in my room, did he not? Invasion of a girl's privacy. Tsk, tsk.

Barnabas raises an eyebrow, seeming amused. "I live here, Tyler." He leans back and places his palms securely on the floor to balance himself. "Now, Tyler, I am not very well acquainted with the new fashions of the fantastic new era I find myself in but... I do believe your shirt is on backwards."

Todd giggles. I glance down at myself and blush furiously when I discover, to my mortification, that he's right. Instead of seeing AERO in bold, fancy stitching, I see a blank white shirt staring back at me.

"Turn around," I mutter.

**~DS~DS~DS~**

I don't know if Carrie can feel the heat of my glare on her face as she explains to Barnabas what we've been discussing. If she can, she's ignoring me. Traitor.

After I'd fixed my shirt, Carrie had insisted that I sit down again - right between her and Barnabas. I'd protested, but Barnabas grabbed my hand and pulled me down next to him. I narrowly avoided sitting on his lap.

Todd sees my angry look and snickers. I switch my glare onto him, and he's not long shutting up. Barnabas has his arm around my waist; his fingers do a little dance on my side. Chills run up and down my spine, and I shiver a little. My cheeks burn. Barnabas' lips twitch in a small grin.

Carrie finally shifts her eyes over to meet mine, and her eyes twinkle mischievously. She twitches her fingers while they wave about in the air as she talks, outlining our situation, and the next thing I know, I'm suddenly tugged up against Barnabas' side, curled into his rock-hard body like a caterpillar curls into a cocoon.

I flush, but manage to send a scowl towards my sister. She widens her eyes at me innocently and continues talking.

Now, how is a girl supposed to focus on fighting an immortal enemy in _this _position?

I sigh, and Barnabas tucks me more snugly into his embrace. I find myself cuddling against him, enjoying the feel of his chest against my cheek. Shocked, I almost want to pull away, but at the same time... I don't. I simply want to stay in his arms forever... Safe, secure... _Loved. _

I have to say... A girl can get used to this.


	37. Chapter 37

_**CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN**_

A faraway voice is calling my name. I mumble something incoherent to my own ears and snuggle deeper into the soft, warm, pillow that's nestled against my face. The pillow moves as a deep voice chuckles. I frown, but keep my eyes closed. Why is it moving?

"Tyler."

I moan and turn my face away from the bright light that is beginning to overwhelm my eyelids, despite my fervent wishing for it to go away. The pillow moves again, and suddenly I'm aware of the fact that I'm sitting on something soft and plushy, and warm arms are wrapped around me. _What-? _

My eyes snap open, and at first all I can see is black. Then I move my face, and, after blinking several times, I see my sister's and brother's faces coming into focus. Todd is grinning, and Carrie has her hand hovering in front of her mouth, no doubt to hide her own smile. I turn to look at who's holding me, and gasp when I see Barnabas. He, too, is smiling broadly. His fangs send shivers down my spine.

Carrie is the first to speak. "You fell asleep," she says. "Barnabas didn't want you to hit your head on the floor, so..." Her voice trails off, but her mischievous expression gives me the hint that it wasn't only Barnabas' idea for him to hold me in his lap.

"Oh," I say lamely, reaching up to rub my eyes. "How long have I been out?"

"About an hour."

I groan. "What did I miss?" I lower my arms and glare at the light pouring through the window. "And why is it so bright in here?"

Todd snickers, but gets up and goes over to the window. "Jeez, Tyler," he says as he closes the heavy drapes. "Someone's cranky after her catnap."

I scowl at him and turn back to Carrie, able to fully open my eyes now that the room is a tad darker. There's another window on the other side of the room, but it's far enough away that the light isn't bothering me.

_Strange_, I think to myself, but before I can focus on it any further, Carrie speaks again,

"We've come up with a sort of plan," she tells me. "We need you to text Jalisa and tell her to be here in an hour."

"An hour?" I ask in disbelief. "That barely gives us any time!"

Carrie grins. "We don't even need an hour, really. It's just to give us some room to breathe, just in case." In case of what, she doesn't specify, and I'm not really that eager to ask her to.

I say, "Okay, so... What is the plan?"

My sister grins, as do the other two males. "To get Jalisa arrested."


	38. Chapter 38

_**CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT**_

My fingers are shaking as I type a text. WHERE ARE YOU? is all it says, but it's enough to make send me into a panic. I can't believe I'm texting Jalisa, the woman who has ruined my life. I tap SEND and wait.

Not even a minute later, my iPhone buzzes. NOT TOO FAR. WHY?

With a pounding heart, I reply, NEED TO SEE YOU. COME TO THE MANSION ASAP.

_Bzzz. _NAME YOUR REASON.

DON'T NEED ONE, I tell her. SIMPLY NEED TO SEE YOU ABOUT SOMETHING. A NEGOTIATION.

I bite my lip. Surely Jalisa isn't stupid enough to fall for this? It sounds shady even to me.

Then - GIVE ME 30 MINS. ON MY WAY. I'M BRINGING THE WEREWOLF.

I breathe a heavy sigh. Beside me, a uniformed man whistles low under his breath.

"Dang," he says softly, lifting his cap to run his fingers through his fair hair. "So it is true. She really does have a werewolf accomplice."

I nod silently, staring at my phone. The police officer beside me knows the whole story by now, having came to the mansion - along with about five other officers - twenty minutes before. Several had laughed when they first heard the story, but thanks to a little "persuasion" from Barnabas, and my still-bandaged nose, they weren't long shutting up.

The officer calls to his fellows, and they spread out through the parlor, positioning themselves carefully. Jalisa said she would be here in thirty minutes, and I can practically hear the clock ticking as time counts down.

Barnabas suddenly appears beside me, and slips his arm around my waist. I snuggle up against him and let out a sigh.

He presses his lips against my hair. "Are you alright, love?" he whispers to me. His breath tickles my ear and I shiver.

"Yes," I whisper back. "Just... Nervous."

Barnabas nuzzles my earlobe and inhales deeply, seeming to enjoy the scent of my hair. "Don't worry, my love," he tells me, and my heart swells at the nickname. "I'll always be here for you."

I lean against him even more, and together, we train our gazes on the large double doors that are closed now, but will soon open to welcome our enemy into the mansion.


	39. Chapter 39

_**CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE**_

I keep my eyes trained on my phone for the duration of thirty long minutes, but it doesn't vibrate once. I'm on the verge of falling asleep when one of the police officers posted by the window suddenly straightens up.

"She's here."

Suddenly, everyone is in motion. Uniformed men scatter to conceal themselves from Jalisa's and Mr. Evans' eyes, while Barnabas does the same. Mom, Carrie, and Todd are hiding in the kitchen, while I am left out in the open, on my own, to face Jalisa.

I swallow hard, trying to forcibly remove a rather large lump in my throat. Leaning slightly to my right, I peek out the window and tremble even more when I see Mr. Evans' large, yellow Mustang out in the driveway. The driver's door opens, and he steps out. He scans the mansion, and a self-satisfied smirk plays on his lips below his huge designer sunglasses.

The passenger door opens next, and Jalisa gracefully steps out. She's covered from head to toe in designer wear: a large Louis Vuitton hat, huge Coach sunglasses, high-collared Louis Vuitton jacket, neatly pressed Chanel pants, and Ralph Lauren leather riding boots. Not one inch of her porcelain skin is touched by the sun - not even her dainty little hands. They are protected by Marc Jacobs gloves. A matching handbag dangles from her left elbow.

I scowl and turn away, sick of watching her glide towards the mansion. She looks like she belongs here, and the very thought of her living in my house sickens me. I wish I could poof her away.

Two seconds later, I hear a knock on the door. My pulse speeds up even more, if that's possible, and I slowly rise from my sitting position against the wall. With legs like jelly, I take slow baby steps towards the doors.

By the time I reach them, our 'guest' has knocked at least five times. Under normal circumstances, I'd be the perfect brat and make them wait a little longer, but for this occasion, I'm happy to get this visit over and done with as soon as possible.

I reach out and grasp the large handle, taking a second to secure my sweaty palm's grip before I gather my strength and, with a might heave, haul the door open and find myself looking into the stone-cold eyes of my enemy.

"Hello, Tyler," Jalisa purrs, holding out a glove-clad hand. "How nice to see you again, my pretty."


	40. Chapter 40

_**CHAPTER FOURTY**_

Well, look who just walked in. The Wicked Witch of Maine.

I raise an eyebrow at the female vampire and cross my arms over my chest. "I would say thank you for the compliment," I say spitefully, "But frankly, I don't think you know how to give them out to people." I keep a close eye on Mr. Evans, who simply walks in and closes the door behind him, adjusting his silk suit jacket as though it's just another day at the office.

Jalisa, on the other hand, is looking around her, examining the parlor with an air of distaste. Her plump lips turn down in a small grimace as she tugs off the gloves and shoves them into her coat pockets. "My, we've really let this place go to Hell, haven't we?" she murmurs, and then sends a nasty smile at me. "Right where it belongs."

My temper flares, but I force my anger down again and say calmly, "Well, you seem to know a lot about demonic interior," I mutter, and smirk when her smile turns down into a scowl.

"Insolent brat," she hisses. "I should have dealt with you when I first came here to this thrice-accursed place. A broken nose wasn't enough. I should have finished the job!"

She suddenly lunges towards me, and I scramble backwards. Yet my feet only slide back a few inches before I find myself locked in an iron grip. I glance feverishly over my shoulder and see Mr. Evans' grinning face looking back at me.

"Going somewhere, hmm?" he says in a low voice, pulling me closer to him. I squirm, but he just grins wider and tightens his grip on my arms. I gasp in pain. It feels like my arms are about to break.

"Jalisa Hoffman!" A man's voice suddenly blares through the parlor, and it rings with authority. Jalisa suddenly freezes in place, having been stalking towards me a moment ago, and looks over her shoulder. Her already pale face turns even whiter, and she begins backing away at a rapid pace. She doesn't get far before she's suddenly surrounded by a swarm of uniformed men.

At first, she screams and struggles, scratching with her razor-sharp, manicured nails as two officers struggle to hold her hands behind her back long enough to get a pair of handcuffs on her wrists. The one who first spoke continues on, "You're under arrest for uttering threats of murder!"

Jalisa shouts again, and though most of her words are incoherent, I can make out some of them. One statement especially: "Tyler Stoddard, you little witch! You did this to me! You are through, Tyler! You and your vampire boyfriend!" She screams out more, but I look away from the redhead and focus on my socks. I always did like polka dots more than annoying redheads.

"Hey, let go of me!"

Mr. Evans' grip on my arms suddenly becomes so tight that I cry out in pain and shock. Then it suddenly disappears, and I sink to my knees. Carefully, I roll up my shirt sleeves a bit and whimper at the red marks left there by the werewolf. I can easily see the outline of his fingers.

"Tyler!"

Barnabas is suddenly kneeling next to me, and his face is stricken with many different emotions, all blending so fast into one another that I can't tell what he's feeling. "Oh, God, Tyler," he whispers, gripping one of my hands. Though his grip is firm, it's nothing like Mr. Evans'. Barnabas is sweet and gentle and... Loving.

Overcome with emotion, I lean heavily against him and whisper back, "Barnabas... I love you."

He looks down at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish's. At first, he seems happy, but then his face changes to doubt. His mouth opens again, and he goes to speak when he's suddenly interrupted.

"Tyler! Oh, my God, Tyler!" Mom appears beside me in a flurry of tears and wraps her arms around me in a death grip. I choke as my air is cut off, but Mom is too busy sobbing to notice. My arms are screaming in pain, and my lungs are ready to collapse.

"Mom," I croak, desperately poking her in the ribs, "I can't breathe."

Mom sobs some more. "I thought I'd lose you."

_Lose me? _I think, and mentally snort. _To who? _Then I remember the werewolf, and abruptly stop this train of thought.

"Mom," I whisper, in a hoarse - and growing worse still - voice. "I. Can't. Breathe."

"Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry, honey!" she finally gasps and lets go of me. Sweet, blessed oxygen enters my lungs and I can finally breathe again. Mom examines me thoroughly, and her face gets even whiter when she sees the handprints.

"What did he do to you?" she whispers, and I sigh when fresh tears begin making transparent tracks down her cheeks.

I say gently, "He just grabbed my arms, Mom. I'll be fine. I'll be sore for a couple of days, but that's all." I hug her, and she holds me tightly. I find myself blinking back a few tears of my own.

When we part, I'm sucked into yet another hug. This time it's Carrie, and she's a lot more careful with me than Mom was. Carrie doesn't say anything, but the look she gives me when we part says that we'll be having a chat later.

Todd merely shuffles his feet when I turn to him, but after a couple seconds, he carefully wraps me in an affectionate embrace. Well, affectionate for him, anyway - which means not pulling away after two seconds.

Hugs and celebrations finally through, I stand up, with the help of Barnabas of course, and try to regain my balance. My legs are shaky, and I almost fall over when I take my first few steps, but soon enough, I can walk on my own without help.

I look around the parlor. Several flowerpots were knocked over in the scuffle with Jalisa, and I grimace when I see broken shards of pottery and a trampled plant on the floor.

Mom has a look of sorrow on her face when I turn to her as she studies her plants, but when she catches my eye she smiles and reaches out to tug me closer to her. "It was worth it," she says, gently tossing my ponytail around. "It was worth it all, being able to finally know my children are safe."

I smile, but when I glance over at Barnabas my grin fades. He's watching us, or more specifically me, with a sorrowful expression, and when our eyes meet he merely turns away. It hurts, but at the moment I'm too caught up in the excitement of knowing that we're safe, we're alive, we're okay, and Jalisa is never going to bother us again.

I feel like a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders. This adventure has been fun, but I'm not sorry it's over. Yet somehow, I know that the next one is just around the corner. Strangely, I'm not worried, or scared. I mean, come on - I have a vampire by my side the entire way. Not to mention, a pretty hot vampire. What more could a girl ask for?

I smile again as I look around at the bright faces of my tired, united family. _Yes, it's been fun, _I think to myself, winking at Carrie, _But the next one will be even better. _


End file.
